

Book 


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(A Sequel to ** Homeward Boimd.”) 


By J. FENIMORE COOPER 


17' TO ZJ VaNdeW/tei^ 3 t 

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Seaside Library, Pocke^Edition^^^i^^^^^^^^^^^^utjscmrtion $36 per annii 
ited 1885, by Oeorge Munro— Entered at the Foat Office at New York at second class rates— M ’oh. 



MUNRO’S PUBLICATIONS. 


THE SEASIDE LIBEARY.-POOKET EDITIOjn. 


wo. tEICE. 

1 Yolande, By ■William Black. . . 20 

2 Molly Bawn. ]^'‘Tlie Duchess”.... 20 

5 The Mill on the Floss. By George Eliot 20 

4 Under Two Flags. By “ Ouida” 2C 

8 Admiral’s Ward. By Mrs. Alexander.. 20 

6 Portia. By “The Duchess” 20 

7 File No. li3. By Emile Gaboriau 20 

8 East Lynne. By Mrs. Henry Wood .... 20 

9 Wanda. By “ Ouida ”. 20 

10 Tlie Old Curiosity Shop. By Diclceus. 20 

11 John Halifax, Gentleman. MissMulock 20 

12 Other People’s Money. By Gaboriau. 20 

13 Eyre’s Acquittal. By Helen B. Mathers 10 

14 Airy Fairy Jjilian. By “ The Duchess ” 10 

15 Jane Eyre. By Charlotte Bronte 20 

16 Phyllis. By’“ Tlie Duchess ” 20 

17 Tlie Wooing O’t. By Mrs. Alexander,, 15 

18 Shandon Bells. By William Black.... 20 

19 Her Mother’s Sin.- By the Author of 

“ Dora Thorne ” 10 

20 Within an Inch of His Life. By Emilo 

Gaboriau 20 

21 Sunrise. By William Black 20 

22 David Copperfle’d. Dickens. Vol. I.. 20 

22 David Copperfieid. Dickens. Vol. II. 20 

23 A Princess of Thuie. By William Black 20 
^ Pickwick Papers. Dickens. Vol. I... 20 

24 Pickwick Papers. Dickens. Vol. II.. 20 
^ Mrs. Geoffrey. By “ The Duchess ”... 20 
26 Monsieur Lecoq. By Gaboriau. Vol. I. 20 

26 Monsieur Lecoq. By Gaboriau. Vol. II. 20 

27 Vanity Fair. By William M. Thackeray 20 

^ Ivaulioe. By Sir Walter Scott 20 

29 Beauty’s Daughters. “ The Duchess ” 10 

30 Faith and Uufaith. By “ The Duchess” 20 

31 Middlernarch. By George Eliot 20 

32 The Land Leaguers. Anthony Trollope 20 

33 The Clique of Gold. By Emile Gaboi’iau 10 

34 Daniel Deronda. By George Eliot ... 80 

35 Lady Audley’s Secret. Miss Braddon 20 

36 Adam Bede. By George Eliot 20 

37 Nicholas Nickleby. By Charles Dickens 30 

38 The Widow Lerbuge. By Gaboriau.. 20 

39 In Silk Attire. By William Black 20 

40 The Last Days of* Pompeii. By Sir E. 

Bulwer Ly tton .................... 20 

41 Oliver Twist. By Charles Dickens .. .. 15 

42 Romola. By George Eliot 20 

43 The M'^stery of Orcival. Gaboriau.... 20 

44 Made ^d of Dare. By William Black. . 20 

45 A Li*^ I e Pilgrim. By Mrs. Oliphant... 10 

46 Very Hard Cash. By Chaides Reade.. 20 

47 Altiora Peto. By Laurence Oliphant.. 20 

48 Thicker Than AVater. By James Payn. 20 

49 That Beautiful Wretch. By Black... 20 

50 The Strange Adventures of a Phaeton. 

By William Black 20 

61 Dora Thorne. By the Author of “ Her 

Mother’s Sin 20 

62 The New Magdalen. Bv Wilkie Collins. 10 

S3 The Story of Ida. By Francesca 10 

64 A Broken Wedding-Ring. By the Au- 
thor of “ Dora Thorne ” 20 

55 The Three Guardsmen. By Dumas. ... 20 

66 Phantom Fortune. Miss Braddon.,.. 20 

67 Shirley. By Charlotte Bront6 20 


tRTCBt 

^ By the Gate of the Sea, D, 0. Murmy 10 

59 Vice Versf/. By F. Anstey 20 

60 The Last of the Mohicans. Cooper., i 

61 Charlotte Temple. By Mrs. Rowson. i 

62 The Executor. By Mrs. Alexander.. 20 1 

63 The Spy. By J. Feuimoi-e Cooper. .. 20 

64 A Maiden Fair. B 3 - Charles Gibbon . . 10 

65 Back to the Old Home. By M. C. Hay 10 

66 The Romance of a Poor Young Man. 

By Octave Feuillet 10 

C7 Loma Doone. By R. D. Black more. . 30 
63 A Queen A mongst Women. By tho 

Author of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

CO Madolin s Lover. By the Author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 

70 White Wings. By V/illiam Black ... 10 

71 A Struggle for Fame. Mrs. Riddell.. 20 

72 Old Myddelton’s Money. By M. C. Hay 20 

73 Hedeemed by Love. By the Author of 

“Dora Thorne” 2C 

74 Aurora Floyd. By Miss M. E. Braddon 2t 

75 T^venty Years After. By Dumas... 20 

76 Wife in Name Only. By the Author of 

“ Dora Thorne ” 20 

77 A Tale of Two Cities. By Dickens. ... 15 

78 Madcap Violet. By William Black... 20 

79 Wedded and Parted. By the Author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

SO June. By Mrs. Forrester. 20 

81 A Daughter of Heth. By Wm. Black. 20 
62 Sealed Lips. By F. Du Boisgobey... 20 
S3 A Strange Story. Buhver Lj tton .... 20 

84 Hard Times. By Charles Dickens... 10 

85 A Sea Queen. By W. Clark Russell.. f20 

86 Belinda, By Rhocla Broughton 20 

87 Dick Sand; oi*, A Captain at Fifteen, i 

By Jules Verne 20 

G3 The Privateersman. Captain Marry at 20 

89 The Red Eric. By R. M. Ballantyne. 10 

90 Ernest Mai travels. Bulwer Lylton.. 20 

91 Barnaby Rudge. By Charles Dickens. 20 

92 Lord Tynne's Choice. By the Author 

of “Dora Thome ” 10 

93 Anthony Tiollopes Autobiography.. ?20 

94 Little Do rrit. By Charles Dickens. .. 30 

95 The Fire Brigade. R. M. Ballantjme ^0 

96 Erling the Bold. By R. M. Ballantyne ’.lO 

97 All in a Garden Fair. Walter Besant., fJC 
9S A Woman-Hater. By Charles Reade. jlf 
99 Barbaras History. A. B. Edwards. .. <2- 

100 20,000 Leagues Under the Seas. By 

Jules Verne i'Ji 

101 Second Thoughts. Rhoda Broughton 

102 The Moonstone. B.y Wilkie Collins.. , '• 

103 Rose Fleming. By Dora Russell /. 

104 The Coral Pin. By F. Du Boisgobey. f >f* 

105 A Noble Wife. By John Saunders. . . ■ 

106 Bleak House. By Charles Dickens. . . .< 

107 Dombey and Son*. Charles Dickens. . < 

108 The Cricket o the Hearth, and Doctor 

lilarigold. By Charles Dickens. . . . , 

109 Little Loo. By W. Clark Russell 

110 Under the Red Flag. By Miss Braddon ) 

111 The Little School-Master Mark. By ( 

J. H. Shorthouse 

112 The Waters of Marah, By John HUl 

)“ 



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114 Some of Our Girls. By Mrs. 

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115 Diamond Cut Diamond. By T. 

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116 Moths. By“Cuida” 20 

117 A Tale of the Shore and Ocean. 

By W. H. G. Kingston 20 

118 Loys, Lord Berresford, and Eric 

Dering. By “ The Duchess ”. 10 

119 Monica, and A Rose Distill’d. 

By “ The Duchess ” 10 

120 Tom Brown’s School Days at 

Rugby. By Thomas Hughes 20 

121 Maid of Athens. By Justin Mc- 

Carthy 20 

122 lone Stewart. By Mrs. E. Lynn 

Linton 20 

123 Sweet is True Love. By “ The 

Duchess ” 10 

124 Three Feathers. By William 

Black 20 

125 The Monarch of Mincing Lane. 

By William Black 20 

126 Kilmeny. By William Black, . . 20 

127 Adrian Bright. By Mrs. Caddy 20 

128 Afternoon, and Other Sketches. 

By “ Ouida” 10 

129 Rossmoyne. By “ The Duch- 

CSS •••••••*••••••••••••••«• 10 

130 The Last of the Barons. By 

Sir E. Bulwer Ly tton 40 

131 Our Mutual Friend. Charles 

Dickens 40 

132 Master Humphrey’s Clock. By 

Charles Dickens 10 

133 Peter the Whaler. By W. H. G. 

Kingston 10 

134 The Witching Hour. By “ The 

Duchess” 10 

135 A Great Heiress. By R. E. Fran- 

cillon 10 

136 “That Last Rehearsal.” By 

“ The Duchess ” 10 

137 Uncle Jack, By Walter Besant 10 

138 Green Pastures and Piccadilly. 

By William Black 20 

139 The Romantic Adventures of a 

Milkmaid. By Thomas Hardy 10 

140 A Gloi’ious Fortune. ByYValter 

Besant ‘ 10 

141 She Loved Him I By Annie 

Thomas 10 

142 Jenifer. By Annie Thomas.. .. 20 

143 One False, Both Fair. J. B. 

Harwood 20 

144 Promises of Marriage. By 

Emile Gaboriau 10 

145 “ Storm-Beaten :” God and The 

Man. By Robert Buchanan . . 20 

146 Love Finds the Way. By Walter 

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148 Thorns and Orange-Blossoms. 

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Thorne” 10 


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150 For Himself Alone. By T. W. 

Speight 10 

151 The Ducie Diamonds. By C, 

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By Charles Dickens 20 

153 The Golden Calf. By MissM. E. 

Braddon 20 

154 Annan Water. By Robert Bu- 

chanan 20 

155 Lady Muriel’s Secret. By Jean 

Middlemas 20 

156 “ For a Dream’s Sake.” By Mrs. 

Herbert Martin 20 

157 Milly’s Hero, By F. W. Robin- 

son 20 

158 The 'Starling. By Norman Mac- 

leod, D.D 10 

159 A Moment of Madness, and 

Other Stories. By Florence 
Marryat 10 

160 Her Gentle Deeds. By Sarah 

Tytler. . 10 

161 The Lady of Lyons. Founded 

on the Play of that title by 
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wer Lytton 20 

163 Winifred Power. By Joyce Dar- 

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164 Leila ; or, The Siege of Grenada. 

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165 The History of Henry Esmond. 

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“ The Duchess” 10 

167 Heart and Science. By Wilkie 

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168 No Thoroughfare. By Charles 

Dickens and Wilkie Collins. .. 10 

169 The Haunted Man. By Charles 

Dickens 10 

170 A Great Treason. By Mary 

Hoppus 30 

171 Fortune’s Wheel, and Other 

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172 “ Golden Girls.” By Alan Muir 20 

173 The Foreigners. By Eleanor C. 

Price 20 


174 Under a Ban. By Mrs. Lodge. . 20 

175 Love’s Random Shot, and Other 

Stories. By Wilkie Coni' is... 10 

176 An April Day. By Philipp.^ P. 

Jephson 10 

177 Salem Chapel. By Mrs.Oliphant 20 

178 More Leaves from the Journal 

of a Life in the Highlands, By 
Queen Victoria 10 

179 Little Make-Believe. By B. L. 

Far jeon 10 

180 Round the Galley Fire. By W. 

Clark Russell 10 

181 The New Abelard. By Robert 

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184 Thirlby Hall. By W. E. Norris. 20 

185 Dita. . By Lady Margaret Ma- 

jendie 10 

386 The Canon’s Ward. By James 
Payn 20 

187 The Midnight Sun. By Fredrika 

Bremer 10 

188 Idonea. By Anne Beale 20 

189 Valerie’s Fate. By Mrs. Alex- 

ander 5 

190 Eomance of a Black Veil. By 

the author of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

391 Harry Lorrequer. By Charles 

Lever 15 

392 At the World’s Mercy. By F. 

Warden 10 

193 The Rosary Folk. By G. Man- 

ville Fenn 10 

194 “SoNear, andYet So Far!” By 

Alison 10 

395 “ The Way of the World.” By 

David Christie Murray 15 

396 Hidden Perils. By Marj' Cecil 

Hay 10 

397 For Her Dear Sake. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 20 

198 A Husband’s Story 10 

199 The Fisher Village. By Anne 

Beale 10 

200 An Old Man’s Love. By An- 

thony Trollope 10 

201 The Monastery. By Sir Walter 

Scott 20 

202 The Abbot. By Sir Walter Scott 20 

203 John Bull and His Island. By 

Max O’Rell 10 

204 Vixen. By Miss M. E. Braddon 15 

205 The Minister’s Wife. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 30 

206 The Picture, and Jack of All 

Trades. By Charles Reade . . 10 

207 Pretty Miss Neville. By B. M. 

Croker 15 

208 The Ghost of Charlotte Cray, 

and Other Stories. ByFlor- 
ence Many at 10 

209 John Holdsworth, Chief Mate. 

By W. Clark Russell 10 

210 Readiana: Comments on Cur- 

rent Events. By Chas. Reade 10 

211 The Octoroon. B}' Miss M. E. . 

Braddon 10 

212 Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dra- 

goon. By Chas. L§ver (Com- 
plete in one volume) 30 

213 A Terrible Temptation. Chas. 

Reade 15 

214 Put Yourself in His Place. By 

Charles Reade 20 

215 Not Like Other Girls. By Rosa 

Nouchette Carey 15 

216 Foul Play. By Charles Reade. 15 

217 I'lie Man She Cared For. By 

F. W. Robinson 15 

238 Agnes Sorel. By G. P. R. James 15 


NO. PRICE. 

219 Lady Clare ; or. The Master of 


theForges. By Georges Ohnet 10 

220 Which Loved Him Best? By 

the author of ” Dora Thorne ” 10 

221 Coinin’ Thro’ the Rye. By 

Helen B. Mathers 15 

222 The Sun-Maid. By Miss Grant 15 

223 A Sailor’s Sweetheart. By AV. 

Clark Russell 15 

224 The Arundel Motto. Mary Cecil 

Ha3'^ 15 

225 The Giant’s Robe. ByF. Anstey 15 

226 Friendship. By “ Ouida ” 20 

227 Nancy. By Rhoda Broughton. 15 

228 Princess Napraxine. By ” Oui- 

da” 20 

229 Maid, AA^ife, or Widow? By 

Mrs. Alexander 30 

230 Dorothy Forster. By AA^alter 

Besant 15 

231 Griffith Gaunt. By Charles 

Reade 15 

232 Love and Money ; or, A Perilous 

Secret. By Charles Reade. . . 10 

233 “ I Say No or, the Love-Letter 

Answered. AVilkie Collins.... 15 

234 Barbara; or, Splendid Misery. 

Miss M. E. Braddon 15 

235 “It is Never Too Late to 

Mend.” By Charles Reade. . . 20 

236 AA^hich Shall It Be? Mrs. Alex- 

ander 20 

237 Repented at Leisure. By the 

author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 15 

238 Pascarel. By “ Ouida ” 20 

239 Signa. By “Ouida” 20 

240 Called Back. By Hugh Conway 10 

241 The Baby’s Grandmother. By 

L. B. Walford 10 

242 The Two Orphans. By D’Ennery 10 

243 Tom Burke of “Ours.” First ^ 

half. By Charles Lever 20 

243 Tom Burke of “ Ours.” Second 

half. By Charles Lever 20 

244 A Great Mistake. By the author 

of “ His AA’^edded Wife ”. 20 

245 Miss Tommy, and In a House- 

Boat. By Miss Mulock 10 

246 A Fatal Dower. By the author 

of “ His AVedded AA'^ife ” 10 

247 The Armourer’s Prentices. By 

Charlotte M. Yonge 10 

248 The House on the Marsh. F. 

AVarden 10 

249 “ Prince Charlie’s Daughter.” 

By author of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

250 Sunshine and Roses; or, Di- 

ana’s Discipline. By the au- 
thor of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 


251 The Daughter of the Stars, and 

Other Tales. By Hugh Con- 
way , author of “Called Back ” 10 

252 A Sinless Secret. By “ Rita ”. . 10 

253 The Amazon. By Carl Vosmaer 10 

254 The AVife’s Secret, and Fair but 

False. By the author of 
“ Dora Thorne ” 10 


fcONTINUKD ON THIRD PAGE OF COVER.] 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.-Pocket Edition. 

NO.- 


HOME AS FOUND. 


SEQUEL TO 

“HOMEWARD BOUND.” 


/ 

By J. FENIMOEE COOPER. 


Thou art Perfect. 

Pr. Hen. 


{ iViAR C IBOti 


NEW YORK: 

GEORGE MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 

17 TO 87 Vandbwatkr Street. 



V 


PREFACE. 


Those who have done us the favor to read “ Homeward Bound ” 
will at once perceive that the incidents of this book commence at 
the point Vhere those of the work just mentioned ceased. We are 
fully awaie of the disadvantage of dividing the interest of a tale in 
this manner; but in the present instance, the separation has been 
produced by circumstances over which the writer had very little con- 
trol. As any one who may happen to take up this volume will very 
soon discover that there is other matter which it is necessary to 
know, it may be as well to tell all such persons, in the commence- 
ment, therefore, that their reading will be bootless, unless they have 
leisure to turn to the pages of “ Homeward Bound ” for their cue. 

^V'e remember the despair with which that admirable observer of 
men, Mr. Mathews the comedian, confessed the hopelessness of suc- 
cess, in his endeavors to obtain a sufficiency of prominent and dis- 
tinctive features to compose an entertainment founded on American 
character. The whole nation struck him as being destitute of salient 
points, and as characterized by a respectable mediocrity, that, how- 
ever useful it might be in its way, was utterly without poetry, 
humor, or interest to the observer. For one who dealt principally 
with the more conspicuous absurdities of his fellow-creatures, Mr. 
Mathews was certainly right; we also believe him to have been right 
in the main, in the general tenor of his opinion; for this country, in 
its ordinary aspects, probably presents as barren a field to the writer 
ot fiction, and to the dramatist, as any other on earth; we are not 
certain that we might not say the most barren. We believe that no 
attempt to delineate ordinary American life, either on the stage or 
in the pages of a novel, has been rewarded with success. Even those 
works m which the desire to illustrate a principle has been the aim, 
when the picture has been brought within this homely frame, have 
had to contend with disadvantages that have been commonly found 
insurmountable. The latter being the intention of this book, the task 
has been undertaken with a perfect consciousness ot all its difficul- 
ties, and with scarcely a hope of success^* It would be indeed a des- 
perate undertaking, to think of making anything interesting in the 
way of a Roman "de Societe in this country; still useful glances may 
I>ossibly be made even in that direction, and we trust that the fidelity 
of one or two ot our portraits will be recognized by the looker-on, 
although they will very likely be denied by the sitters themselves. 

There seems to be a pervading principle in things, which gives an 
accumulating energy to any active property that may happen to be 
in the ascendant, at the time being — money produces money ; knowl- 
edge is the parent of knowledge; and ienorance fortifies ignorance. 
In a word, like begets like. The governing social evil of America 


PRErACE. 


Ti 

is provincialism; a misfortune that is perhaps inseparable from her 
situation. Without a social capital, with twenty or more communi- 
ties divided by distance and political barriers, her people, who are 
really more homogeneous than any other of the same numbers in 
the world perhaps, possess no standard for opinion, manners, social 
maxims, or even language. Every man, as a matter of course, 
refers to his own particular 'experience, and praises or condemns 
agreeably to notions contracted in the circle of his own habits, how- 
ever narrow, piovincial, or erroneous they may happen to be. As a 
consequence, no useful stage can exist; for the dramatist who should 
endeavor to delineate the faults of society, would find a formidable 
party arrayed against him, in a moment, with no party to defend. 
As another consequence, we see individuals constantly assailed 
with a wolf-like ferocity, while society is everywhere permitted to 
pass unscathed. 

That the American nation is a great nation, in some particulars 
the greatest the world ever saw, we hold to be true, and are as ready 
to maintain as any one can be; but we are also equally ready to con- 
cede, that it is very far behind most polished nations in various 
essentials, and chiefly, that it is lamentably in arrears to its own 
avowed principles. Perhaps I his truth will be found to be the pre- 
dominant thought, throughout the pages of “ Home as Found.” 



V 


HOME AS FOUND. 


CHAPTER I. 

Good morrow, coz. 

Good morrow, sweet Hero. 

Shakespeare. 

AVhen Mr. Effingham determined to return home he sent orders 
to his agent to prepare his town-house in New York for his recep- 
tion, intending to pass a month or two'in it, then to repair to Wash- 
ington, for a tew weeks, at the close ot its season, and to visit his 
country residence when the spring should fairly open. According- 
ly, Eve now found herself at the head of one of the largest establish- 
ments in the largest American town, within an hour after she had 
landed from the ship. Fortunately for her, however, her father 
was too just to consider a wife or a daughter a mere upper servant, 
and he rightly judged that a liberal portion of his income should be 
assigned to the procuring of that higher quality of domestic service,, 
which can alone relieve the mistress of a household from a burden, 
so heavy to be borne. Ijnlike so many of those around him,, who 
would spend on a single pretending and comfortless entertainment, 
in which the ostentatious folly of one contended with the ostenta- 
tious folly of another, a sum, that, properly directed, would intro- 
duce order and system into a family for a twelvemonth, by com- 
manding the time and knowledge of those whose study they had 
been, and who would be willing to demote themselves to such objects, 
and then permit their wives and dau.ghters to return to the drudgery 
to which the sex seems doomed in this country, he first bethought 
him of the wants of social life before he aspired to its parade. A 
man of the world, Mr. Effingham possessed the requisite knowledge, 
and a man of justice, the requisite fairness, to permit those who de- 
pended on him so much for (heir happiness, to share equitably iu 
the good things that Providence had so liberally bestowed on him- 
Belf. In other words, he made two people comfortable by paying & 
generous price for a housekeeper; his daughter, in the first place, by 
releasing her from caies that necessarily formed no more a part of; 
her duties than it would be a part of her duty to sweep the pavement 
before the door; and in the next place, a very respectable woman, 
who was glad to obtain so good a home on so easy terms. To this 
simple and just expedient Eve was indebted for being at the head of 
one of the quietest, most truly elegant, and best ordered establish- 
ments in America, with no other demands on her time than that 
which was necessary to issue a few orders in the morning, and tc 
examine a few accounts once a week. 


8 


HOME AS FOUND. 


One of the first and mosl acceptable of the visits that Eve received 
was from her cousin, Grace Van Cortlandt, who was in the country 
at the moment of her arrival, but who hurried back to town to meet 
her old school-fellow and kinswoman, the instant she heard of her 
having landed. Eve Effingham and Grace Van Cortlandt were 
sisters’ children, and had been born within a month of each other. 
Asdhe latter was without father or mother, most of their time had 
been passed together, until the former was taken abroad, when a 
separation unavoidably ensued. Mr. Effingham ardently desired, 
and had actually designed to take his niece with him to Europe, but 
her paternal grandfather, who was still living, objected his years and 
affection, and the scheme was reluctantly abandoned. This grand- 
father was now dead, and Grace had been left, with a very ample 
fortune, almost entirely the mistress of her own movements. 

The moment of the meeting between these two warm-hearted and 
sincerely attached young women was one of great interest and 
anxiety to both. They retained for each other the tenderest love, 
though the years that had separated them had given rise to so many 
new impressions and habits, that they did not prepare themselves 
for the interview without ap*prehension. This interview took place 
about a week after Eve was established in Hudson Square, and at 
an hour earlier than was usual for the reception of visits. Hearing 
a carriage stop before the door, and the bell ring, our heroine stole 
a glance from behind a curtain, and recognized her cousin as she 
alisrhted. 

“ Qu'avez-vous, ma clieref" demanded Mademoiselle Viefville, ob- 
serving that her trembled and grew pale. 

“ It is my cousin. Miss Van Cortlandt— she whom 1 loved as a 
sister — we now meet for the first time in so many years!” 

” Bien—c'est une trhjolie jeune personnel” returned the governess, 
taking a glance from the spot Eve had just quitted. “ 8ur le rappoi't 
de la personne, ma cliere, mus devnez Ure contente, au moins.” 

” If you will excuse me, mademoiselle, 1 will go down alone — 1 
think 1 should prefer to meet Grace without witnesses, in the first 
interview.” 

” Trh roloniiers. Elle est parente, et e'est hien naturel.” 

Eve on this expressed approbation met her maid at the door, as 
she came to announce that Mademoiselle de Cortlandt was in the 
library, and descended slowly to meet her. The library was lighted 
from above by means of a small dome, and Grace had unconscious- 
ly placed herself in the very position that a painter wmuld have 
chosen, had she been about to sit for her portrait. A strong, full, 
rich light fell obliquely on her, as Eve entered, displaying her fine 
personT and beautiful features to the very best advantage, and they 
were features and a person that are not seen every day, even in a 
country where female beauty is so common. She was in a carriage 
dress, and her toilet was rather more elaborate than Eve had been 
accustomed to see at that hour, but still Eve thought she had seldom 
seen a more lovely young creature. Some such thoughts also passed 
through the mind of Grace lieiself, who, tliough struck, with a 
woman’s readiness in such matters, with the severe simplicity of 
Eve’s attire, as well as with its entire elegance,- was more struck 
with the charms of her countenance and figure. There was, iu 


HOME AS FOUND. ’ 


9 

truth, a strong resemblance between tliem, though each was distin- 
guished by an expression suited to her character, and to the habits 
oi her mind. 

“ jMiss Effingham!” said Grace, advancing a step to meet the 
lady who enterea, while her voice was scarcely audible and her 
limbs trembled, 

‘‘ Miss Van Cortlandtl” said Eve, in the same low, smothered 
tone. 

This formality caused a chill in both, and each unconsciously 
stopped and courtesied. Eve had been so much struck with the 
coldness of the American manner during the week she had been at 
home, and Grace was so sensitive on the subject of the opinion of 
one who had seen so much of Europe, that there was great danger, 
at that critical moment, the meeting would terminate unpropitiously. 

Thus far, however, all had been rigidly decorous, though the 
strong feelings that were glowing in the bosoms of both had been so 
completely suppressed. But the smile, cold and embarrassed as it 
was, that each gave as she courtesied, had the Svveet character of her 
childhood in it, and recalled to both the girlish and affectionate in- 
tercourse of their younger days. 

” Grace!” said Eve, eagerly advancing a step or two impetuously, 
and blushing like the dawn. 

“Eve!” ' 

Each opened her arms, and in a moment they were locked in a 
long and fervent embrace. This was the commencement of their 
former intimacy, and before night Grace was domesticated in her 
uncle’s house. It is true that Miss Effingham perceived certain pe- 
culiarities about Miss Van Cortlandt that she had rather were ab- 
sent; and Miss Van Cortlandt would have felt more at ease had Miss 
Effingham a little less reseiwe of manner on certain subjects that the 
latter had been taught to think interdicted. Notwithstanding these 
slight separating shades in character, however, the natural affection 
was warm and sincere; and if Eve, according to Grace’s notions, was 
a little stalely and formal, she was polished and courteous; and if 
Grace, according to Eve’s notions, was a little too easy and unre- 
served, she was feminine and delicate. 

AVe pass over the three or four days that succeeded, during which 
Eve had got to understand something of her new position, and we 
will come at once to a conversation between the cousins, that will 
serve to let the reader more intimately into the opinions, habits, and 
feelings of both, as well as to open the real subject of our narra- 
tive. This conversation took place in that very librarj’- which had 
witnessed their first interview, soon after breakfast, and while the 
young ladies were still alone. 

” 1 suppose, Eve, you will have to visit the Greens. They are 
Hajjis, and were much in society last winter.” 

‘‘ Hajjis! You surely do not mean, Grace, that they have been to 
Mecca?’’ 

” Not at all: only to Paris, my dear; that makes a Hajji in New 
York.” 

” And does it entitle the pilgrim to wear the green turban?” asked 
Eve, laughing. 


10 


HO:^IE AS EOUAD. 


“ To wear anything, Miss Effingham; green, blue, or yellow, and 
to cause it to pass for elegance.” 

” And which is the favorite color with the family you have men- 
tioned?” 

“ It ought to be the first, in compliment to the name, but, it truth 
must be said, 1 think they betray an affection for all, with not a few 
of the half-tints in addition.” 

” 1 am afraid they are too ijrononcees for us, by this description, 
i am no great admirer, Grace, of walking rainbows.” 

I “ Too Green, you would have said, had you dared; but you are a 
llaj ji, too, and even the Greens know that a Hajji never puns, unless, 
indeed, it might be one from Philadelphia. But you will visit these 
people?” 

“ Certainly, if they are in society and render it necessary by their 
own civilities.” 

“ They are in society, in virtue of their rights as Hajjis; but as 
tliey passed three months at Paris, you probably know something of 
them.” 

“ They may not have been there at the same time with ourselves,” 
returned Eve, quietly, ” and Paris is a very large town. Hundreds 
of people come and go that one never hears of. 1 do not remember 
those 5 ^ou have mentioned. ” 

” 1 wish you may escape them, for, in my untraveled judgment, 
they are anything but agreeable, notwithstanding all they have seen 
or pretend to have seen.” 

“ It is very possible to have been all over Christendom, and to re- 
main exceed'ingly disagreeable; besides, one may see a great deal, 
3 'et see very little of a good quality.” 

A pause of two or three minutes followed, during which Eve read 
a note, and her cousin played with the leaves of a book. 

” 1 wish 1 knew your real opinion of us, Eve,” the last suddenly 
exclaimed. “Why not be frank with so near a relative; tell me 
honestly, now — are you reconciled to your country?” 

“ T oil are the eleventh person who has asked me this question, 
which 1 find very extraordinary, as 1 have never quarreled with my 
countiy.” 

“Isay, 1 da.not mean exactly that. 1 wish to hear how our soci- 
ety has struck one who has been educated abroad.” 

■ “ You wish, then, for opinions that can have no great value, since 
my experience at home extends only to a fortnight. But you have 
many books on the country, and some wiitten by very clever per- 
sona; why not consult them?” 

“Oh! you mean the travelers. Hone of them are W'orth a second 
thought, and we hold them, one and all, in great contempt.” 

“ Of that 1 can have no manner of doubt, as one and all you are 
constantly protesting it, in the hignways and byways. There is no 
inore certain sign of contempt than to be incessantly dwelling on its 
intensity!” 

Grace had great quickness, as well as her cousin, and though pro- 
voked at Eve’s quiet hit, she had the good sense and the good-nature 
to laugh. 

“ Perhaps we do not protest and disdain a little too strenuously for 


HOME AS FOUND. 11 

good taste, it not to gain believers; but surely, Eve, you do not sup- 
port these travelers in all that they have written of us?” 

” Not in half, 1 can assure you. My father and Cousin Jack have 
discussed them too often in my presence to leave me in ignorance of 
the very many political blunders they have made in particular.” 

“Political blunders! 1 knovv nothing of them, and had rather 
thought them right in most of what they said about our politics. 
But, surely, neither your father nor Mr. John Eflangham corrobo- 
rates what they say of our society?” 

“ 1 can not answer tor either, on that point.” 

“ Speak, then, for yourself. Do you think them right?” 

“You should remember, Grace, that 1 have not yet seen any soci- 
ety in New York.” 

“No society, dear! Why, you were at the Hendersons’, and the 
Morgans’, and the Drewetts’; three of the greatest reunions that we 
have had in two winters.” 

“ I did not know that you meant those unpleasant crowds, by so- 
ciety.” 

“ Unpleasant crowds! Why, child, that is society, is it not?” 

“ Not what 1 have been taught to consider such; 1 rather think it 
would be better to call it company.” 

“ And is not this what is called society in Paris?” 

“ As far from it as possible; it may be an excrescence of society; 
one of its forms; but by no means society itself. It would be as 
true to call cards, which are sometimes introduced in the woild, so- 
ciety, as to call a ball given in two small and crowded rooms, society. 
They are merely two of the modes in which idlers endeavor to vary 
their amusements.” 

“ But we have little else than these balls, the morning visits, and. 
an occasional evening in which there is no dancing.” 

“ 1 am sorry to hear it; for, in that case, you can have no society. ” 

“ And is it difterent at Paris— or Florence, or Rome?” 

“ Very. In Paris there are many houses open every evening to 
which we can go with little ceremony. Our sex appears in them, 
dressed according to what a gentleman I overheard conversing at Mrs. 
Henderson’s would call their ‘ ulterior intentions ’ for the night; 
some attired in the simplest manner, others dressed for concerts, for 
the opera, for court even; some on the way from a dinner, and 
others going to a late ball. All this matter-of-course variety adds to 
the ease and grace of the company, and coupled pvith perfect good 
manners, a certain knowledge of passing events, pretty modes of ex- 
pression, an accurate and even utterance, the women usually find 
the means of making themselves agreeable. Their sentiment is some- 
times a little heroic, but this one must overlook, and it is a taste, 
moreover, that is falling into disuse, as people read better books.” 

“And jmu prefer this heartlessness, Eve, to the nature of your 
own country?” 

“ I do not know that quiet retinue and a good tone are a whit 
more heartless than flirting, giggling, and childishness. There may 
be more nature in the latter, certainly, but it is scarcely as agreea- 
ble, after one has fairly got rid of the nursery.” 

Grace looked vexed, but she loved her cousin too sincerely to be 
angry. A secret suspicion that Eve was right, too, came in aid of 


12 


HOME AS FOUND. 


her afieclion, and while Ler little foot moved, she maintained her 
good-nature, a task not always attainable for those who believe that 
their own “superlatives” scarcely reach to other people’s “ posi- 
tives.” At this critical moment, when there was so much danger 
of a jar in the feelings of these two young females, the library door 
opened, and Pierre, Mr. Effingham’s own man, announced— 

“Monsieur Bragg.” 

“ Monsieur who?” asked Eve, in surprise. 

“ Monsieur Bragg,” returned Pierre, in French, “ desires to see 
mademoiselle.” 

“ You mean my father— I know no such person.” 

“ Tie inquired first for monsieur, but understanding monsieur w^as 
out, he next asked to have the honor of seeing mademoiselle.” 

“ Is it what they call a person in England, Pierre?” 

Old Pierre smiled as he answered ; 

“ He has the air, mademoiselle, though he esteems himself a per- 
sonage, if I might take the liberty of judging.” 

“ Ask him for his card— there must be a mistake, 1 think.” 

AVhile this short conversation took place, Grace Van Cortlandt 
was sketching a cottage with a pen, without attending to a word 
that was said. But, when Eve received the card from Pierre and 
read aloud, with the tone of surprise that the name would be apt to 
excite in a novice in the art of American nomenclature, the words 
“ Aristabiilus Bragg,” her cousin began to laugh. 

“Who can this possibly be, Grace? Did you ever hear of such a 
person, and what right can he have to wish to see me?” 

“ Admit him, by all means; it is your father’s land-agent, and he 
may wish to leave some message for my uncle. You will be obliged 
to make his acquaintance, sooner or later, and it may as well be 
done now as at another time.” 

“ You have shown this gentleman into the front drawing-room, 
Pierre?” 

“ Old, mademoiselle.” 

“ 1 will ring when you are wanted.” 

Pierre withdrew, and Eve opened her secretaire, out of which she 
took a small manuscript book, over the leaves of which she passed 
her fingers rapidly. 

“ Here it is,” she said, smiling, “ ‘Mr. Arlstabulus Bragg, At- 
torney and Counselor-at-Law, and the agent of the Templeton es- 
tate.’ This piecious little work, you must understand, Grace, con- 
tains sketches of the characters of such persons as 1 shall be the 
most likely to see, by John Effingham, A.M. It is a sealed volume, 
of course, but there can be no harm in reading the part that treats 
of our present visitor, and, "with your permission, we will have it in 
common : ‘ Mr. Aristabulus Bragg was born in one of the western 
counties of Massachusetts, and emigrated to New York, after re- 
ceiving his education, at the mature age of nineteen; at twenty-one 
he was admitted to the bar, and for the last seven years he has been 
a successful practitioner in all the courts of Otsego, from the jus- 
tice’s to the circuit. His talents are undeniable, as he commenced 
his education at fourteen and terminated it at twenty-one, the law 
course included. This man is an epitome of all that is good and all 
that is bad in a very large class of his fellow-citizens. He is quick- 


HOME AS FOUND, 


13 


wilted, prompt in action, enterprising in all things in which he has 
nothing to lose, but wary and cautious in all things in which he has 
a real stake, and ready to turn not only his hand, but his heart and 
his principles, to anytuing that offers an advantage. With him, 
literally, “ nothing is too high to be aspired to, nothing too low to 
be done.” He will run for governor, or for town clerk, just as op- 
portunities occur, is expert ih all the practices of his profession, has 
had a quarter’s dancing, with three years in the classics, and turned 
his attention top^ard medicine and divinity, before he finally settled 
down into the law. Such a compound of shrewdness, impudence, 
common-sense, pretension, humility, cleverness, vulgarity, kind- 
heartedness, duplicity, selfishness, law-honesty, moral fraud and 
mother wit, mixed up with a smattering of learning and much pene- 
tration in practical things, can hardly be described, as any one of 
his prominent qualities is certain to be met by another quite as ob- 
vious that is almost its converse. Mr. Bragg, in short, is purely a 
creature of circumstances, his qualities pointing him out for either a 
member of congress or a deputy sheriff, offices that he is equally 
ready to fill. 1 have employed him to watch over the estate of your 
father, in the absence of the latter, on the principle that one prac- 
ticed in tricks is the best qualified to detect and expose them, and 
with the certainty that no man will trespass with impunity, so long 
as the courts continue to tax bills of costs with their present liberal- 
ity.’ You appear to know the gentleman, Grace; is this character 
of him faithful?” 

” 1 know nothing of bills of costs and deputy sheriffs, but 1 do 
know that Mr. Aristabulus Bragg is an amusing mixture of strut, 
humility, roguery, and cleverness. He is waiting all this time in the 
drawing-room, and you had better see him, as he may now be 
almost considered part of the family. \ou know he has been liv- 
ing in the house at Templeton, ever since he was installed by Mr. 
John Effingham. It was there I had the honor first to meet him.” 

” First! Surely you have never seen him anywhere else!” 

“ Your pardon, my dear. He never comes to town without honor- 
ing me with a call. This is the price 1 pay for having had the honor 
of being an inmate of the same house with him tor a week.” 

Eve rang the bell, and Pierre made his appearance. 

“ Desire Mr. Bragg to walk into the library.” 

Grace looked demure while Pierre was gone to usher in their vis- 
itor, and Eve was thinking of the medley of qualities John Effing- 
ham had assembled in his description, as the door opened, and the 
subject of her contemplation entered. 

” Monsieur Aristabule,” said Pierre, eying the card, but sticking 
at the first name. 

Mr. Aristabulus Bragg was advancing with an easy assurance to 
make his buw to the ladies, when the more finished air and quiet 
dignity of Miss Effingham who was standing, so far disconcerted 
him, as completely to upset his self-possession. As Grace had ex- 
pressed it, in consequence of having lived three years in the old resi- 
dence at Templeton, he had begun to consider himself a part of the 
family, and at homQ he never spoke of the young lady without call- 
ing her ” Eve,” or ” Eve Effingham.” But he found it a very dif- 
ferent thing to affect familiarity among his associates, and to prac- 


14 


HOME AS FOUND. 


lice it in the very face of its subject; and, although seldom at a 
loss for words of some sort or another, he was now actually dumb- 
founded. Eve relieved his awkwardness by directing Pierre, with 
her eye, to hand a chair, and first speaking. 

“ 1 regret that my father is not in,” she said, by way of turning 
the visit from herself; “ but he is to. be expected every moment. 
Are you lately from Templeton?” 

Aristabulus drew his breath, and recovered enough of his ordinary 
tone of manner to reply with a decent regard to his character for 
self-command. The intimacy that he had intended to establish on 
the spot was temporarily defeated, it is true, and without his exactly 
knowing how it had been effected; for it was merely the steadiness 
of the young lady, blended as it was with a polished reserve, that 
had thrown him to a distance he could not explain. He felt imme- 
diately, and with taste that did his sagacity credit, that his footing 
in this quarter was only to be obtained by unusually slow and cau- 
tious means. Still Mr. Bragg was a man of great decision, and, in 
his way, of very far-sighted views; and singular as it may seem, at 
that unpropitious moment, he mentally determined that, at no very 
distant day, he would make Miss Eve Effingham his wife. 

“ 1 hope Mr. Effingham enjoys good health,” he said, with some 
such caution as a rebuked school-girl enters on the recitation of her 
task— “ he enjoyed bad health 1 hear (Mr. Aristabulus Bragg, 
though so shrewd, was far from critical In his modes of speech) 
when he went to Europe, and, after traveling so far in such bad 
company, it would be no more than fair that he should have a little 
respite as he approaches home and old age.” 

Had Eve been told that the man who uttered this nice sentiment, 
and that too in accents as uncouth and provincial as the thought 
was finished and lucid, actually presumed to think of her as his 
bosom companion, it is not easy to say which would have predom- 
inated in her mind, mirth or resentment. But Mr. Bragg w^as not 
in the habit of letting his secrets escape him prematurely, and cer- 
tainly this was one that none but a wizard could have discovered 
without the aid of a direct oral or written communication. 

” Are you lately from Templeton?” repeated Eve, a little sur- 
prised that the gentleman did not see fit to answer the question, 
which was the only one that, as it seemed to her, could have com- 
mon interest with them both. 

” 1 left home the day before yesterday,” Aristabulus now deigned 
to reply. 

“ It is so long since 1 saw our beautiful mountains, and 1 was 
then so young, that I feel a great impatience to revisit them, though 
the pleasure must be deferred until spring,” 

“ 1 conclude they are the handsomest mountains in the known 
world. Miss Effingham!” 

“ That is much more than 1 shall venture to claim for them; but, 
according to my imperfect recollection, and, what 1 esteem of far 
more importance, according to the united testimony of Mr. John 
Effingham and my father, ]. think they must be very beautiful.” 

Aristabulus looked up, as if he had a facetious thing to say, 
and he even ventured on a smile, wffiile he made his answer. 


HOME AS FOU^s^D. 15 

“ 1 hope Mr. Jolm Effiugliam has prepared you for a great change 
in the house?’' 

“ We know that it has been repaired and altered under his direc- 
tions. That was done at my father's request.” 

‘‘We consider it denationalized, Miss Eflangham, there being 
nothing like it, west of Albany at least.” 

“ I should be sorry to find that my cousin has subjected us to this 
imputation,” said Eve, smiling— perhaps a little equivocally; ‘‘the 
architecture of America being generally so simple and pure. Mr. 
Ettingham laughs at his own improvements; however, in which, he 
says, he has only carried out the plans of the original artiste, who 
worked very much in what was called the composite order.” 

“You allude to Mr. Hiram Doolittle, a gentleman i never saw; 
though 1 hear he has left behind him many traces of his progress in 
the newer States. Ex pede HercuUm, as we say in the classics. Miss 
Eflangham. 1 believe it is the general sentiment that Mr. Doolittle’s 
designs have been improved on, though most people think that the 
Grecian or Eoman architecture, which is so much in use in America, 
would be more republican. But everybody knows that Mr. John 
Effingham is not much of a republican.” 

Eve did not choose to discuss her kinsman’s opinions with Mr. 
Aristabulus Bragg, and she quietly remarked that she “did not 
know that the iinitations of the ancient architecture, of which there 
are so many in the country, were owing to attachment to republican- 
ism.” 

“ To what else can it be owing, Miss Eve?” 

“Sure enough,” said Grace Van Cortlandt; “ it is unsuited to 
the materials, the climate, and the uses; and some very powerful 
motive, like that mentioned by Mr. Bragg, could alone overcome 
these obstacles.” 

Aristabulus started from his seat, and making sundry apologies, 
declared his previous unconsciousness that Miss Van Cortlandt was 
present; all of which was true enough, as he had been so much oc- 
cupied mentally with her cousin as not to have observed her, seated 
as she was partly behind a screen. Grace received the excuses favor- 
ably, and the conversation was resumed. 

“ 1 am sorry that my cousin should oflend the taste of the coun- 
try,” said Eve, “ but as we are to live in the house the punishment 
will fall heaviest on the offenders.” 

“ Do not mistake me. Miss Eve,” returned Aristabulus in a little 
alarm, for he too well understood the influence and wealth of John 
Effingham not to wish to be on good terms with him, “ do not 
mistake me. 1 admire the house, and know it to be a perfect speci- 
men of a pure architecture in its way, but then public opinion is not 
yet quite up to ic. I see all its beauties, 1 w^ould wish you to know, 
but then there are many, a majority, perhaps, who do not, and these 
persons think they ought to be consulted about such matters.” 

“1 believe Mr. John Effingham thinks less of his own work than 
you seem to think of it yourself, sir, for I have frequentlj" heard 
him laugh at it as a mere enlargement of the merits of the Com- 
posite order. He calls it a caprice rather than a taste; nor do 1 see 
what concern a majority, as you term them, can have with a house 
that does not belong to them.” 


16 


HOME AS FOUND. 


Aristabulus was surprised that any one could disregard a majority^ 
for in this respect he a good deal resembled Mr. Dodge, though run- 
ning a different career; and the look of surprise he gave was natural 
and open. 

“ 1 do not mean that the public has a legal right to control the 
tastes of the citizen,” he said, “but in a republican government, 
you undoubtedly understand. Miss Eve, it will rule in all things.” 

“ 1 can understand that one would wish to see his neighbor use 
good taste, as it helps to embellish a country; but the man who 
should consult the whole neighbortood before he built would be 
very apt to cause a complicated house to be erected, if he paid much 
respect to the different opinions he received; or, what is quite as 
likel3% apt to have no house at all.” 

“ 1 think jou are mistaken. Miss Effingham, for the public senti- 
ment just now runs almost exclusively and popularly into the Grecian 
school. We build little besides temples for oiir churches, our banks, 
our taverns, our court-houses, and our dwellings. A friend of mine 
has just built a brewery on the model of the Temple of the Winds.” 

“Had it been a mill, one might understand the conceit,” said 
Eve, who now began to perceive that her visitor had some latent 
humor, though he produced it in a manner to induce one to think 
him anything but a droll. “ The mountains must be doubly beau- 
tiful if they are decorated in the way you mention. 1 sincerely 
hope, Grace, that 1 shall find the hills as pleasant as they now exist 
in my recollection.” 

“ Should they not prove to be quite as lovely as you imagine. 
Miss Effingham,” returned Aristabulus, who saw no impropriety iu 
answering a remark made to Miss Van Cortlandt, of any one else, 

‘ ‘ 1 hope you will have the kindness to conceal the fact from the 
world.” 

“ 1 am afraid that would exceed my power — the disappointment 
would be so strong. May 1 ask why you show so much interest in 
n^y keeping so cruel a mortification to myself?” 

“Why, Miss Eve,” said Aristabulus, looking grave, “1 am 
afraid that our people would hardly bear the expression of such an 
opinion from you.” 

“ From me!— and why not from me, in particular?” 

“ Perhaps it is because they think you have traveled, and have 
seen other countries.” 

“ And is it only those who have not traveled, and who have no 
means of knowing the value of what they say, that are privileged to 
criticise?” 

“ 1 cannot exactly explain my own meaning, perhaps, but 1 think 
Miss Grace will understand me. Do you not agree with me. Miss 
Van Cortlandt, in thinking it would be safer for one who never saw 
any other mountains, to complain of the tameness and monotony of 
our own, than for one who had passed a whole life among the 
Andes and the Alps?” 

Eve smiled, for she saw that Mr. Bragg was capable of detecting 
and laughing at provincial pride, even while he was so much under 
its influence; and Grace colored, for she had the consciousness of 
having already betrayed some of this very silly sensitiveness in her 
intercourse with her cousin, in connection with other subjects. A 


H031E AS FOUKD. 


17 

reply was unnecessaiy, however, as the door just then opened, and 
John Effingham made his appearance. The meeting between the 
two gentlemen, fo>we suppose Aristabulus must be included in the 
category, by courtesy, if not of right, was more cordial than Eve had 
expected to witness, for each really entertained a respect for the 
other, in reference to a merit of a particular sort; Mr. Bragg esteem- 
ing Mr, John Effingham as a wealthy and caustic cynic, and Mr. 
John Effingham regarding Mr. Bragg much as the owner of a 
dwelling regards a valuable house-dog. After a few moments of 
conversation the two withdrew together; and just as the ladies were 
about to descend to the drawing-room, previously to dinner, Pierre 
announced that a plate had been ordered for the land-agent. 


CHAPTER IL 

I know that Deformed; he has been a vile thief this seven years; he goes up 
and down like a gentleman.— itfac/i Ado About Nothing. 

Eve and her cousin found Sir George TemiDleraore and Captain 
Truck in the drawing-room, the former having lingered in !New 
York, with a desire to be near his friends, and the latter being on 
the point of sailing for Europe, in his regular turn. To these must 
be added Mr. Bragg and the ofdinaiy inmates of the house, when 
the reader will get a view of the whole party. 

Aristabulus had never before sat down to as brilliant a table, and 
for the first time in his life he saw candles lighted at a dinner; but 
he was not a man to be disconcerted at a novelty. Had he been a 
European of the same origin and habits, awkwardness would have 
betrayed him fifty times before the dessert made its appearance; but 
being the man he was, one who overlooked a certain prurient polite- 
ness that rather illustrated his deportment, might very well have 
permitted him to pass among the oi pollot of the world, were it not 
for a peculiar management in the way of providing for himself. It 
is true he asked every one near him to eat of everything he could 
himself reach, and that he used his knife as a coal-heaver uses his 
shovel; but the company he was in, though fastidious in its own 
deportment, was altogether above the silver-forkisms, and this por- 
tion of his demeanor, if it did not escape undetected, passed away 
unnoticed. Not so, however, with the peculiarity already mentioned 
as an exception. This touch of deportment (or management, per- 
haps, is the better word) being characteristic of the man, it deserves 
to be mentioned a little in detail. 

The service at Mr. Effingham’s table was made in the quiet but 
thorough manner that distinguishes a French dinner. Every dish 
was removed, carved by the domestics, and handed in turn to each 
guest. But there was a delay and a finish in this arrangement that 
suited neither Aristabulus’ go-a-headisra, nor his organ of acquisi- 
tiveness. Instead of waiting, therefore, for the more graduated 
movements of the domestics, he began to take care of himself, an 
office that he performed with a certain dexterity that he had ac- 
quired by frequenting ordinaries— a school, b}" the way, in which 
he had obtained most of his notions of the proprieties of the tablCo 
One or two slices were obtained in the usual manner, or by means 


38 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


of the regular service; and then, like one who had laid the founda- 
tion of a fortune by some lucky windfall in the commencement of 
his career, he1t)egan to make accessions, right andjeft, as opportunity 
offered. Sundry entremets, or light’ dishes, that had a peculiarly- 
tempting appeal ance, came first under his grasp. Of these he soon 
accumulated all witliin his reach, by taxing his neighbors, when he 
ventured to send his plate here and there, or wherever he saw a dish 
that promised to reward his trouble. By such means, which were 
resorted to, however, with a quiet and unobtrusive assiduity that 
escaped much observation, Mr. Bragg contrived to make his own 
plate a sample epitome of the first course. It contained in the 
center, fish, beef, and ham; and around these staple articles he had 
arranged croquettes, rognons, ragouts, vegetables, and other light 
things, until not only was the plate completely covered, but it was 
actually covered in double and triple layers; mustard, cold butter, 
salt, and even pepper garnishing its edges. These different accu- 
mulations were the work of time and address, and most of the com- 
pany had repeatedly changed their plates before Aristabulus had 
eaten a mouthful, the soup excepted. The happy moment when 
his ingenuity was to be rewarded had now arrived, and the land- 
agent was about to commence the process of mastication, or of deg- 
lutition, rather, for he troubled himself very little with the first 
operation, when the report of a cor|^ drew his attention toward the 
champagne. To Aristabulus this wine never came amiss, for, relish- 
ing its piquancy, he had never gone far enough into the science of 
the table to learn which were the proper moments for using it. As 
respected all the others at table, this moment had in truth arrived, 
though, as respected himself, he was no nearer to it, according to 
a regulated taste, than when he first took his seat. Perceiving that 
Pierre was serving it, however, he offered his own glass, and enjoyed 
a delicious instant as he swallowed a beverage that much surpassed 
anything he had ever Known to issue out of the waxed and leaded 
nozzles that, pointed like so many enemies’ batteries loaded with 
headaches and disordered stomachs, garnished sundry village bars 
of his accjuaintance. 

Aristabulus finished his glass at a draught, and when he took 
breath he fairly smacked his lips. That was an unlucky instant; 
his plate, burdened with all its treasures, being removed at this 
unguarded moment; the man who performed this unkind office 
fancying that a dislike to the dishes could alone have given rise to 
such an omnium-gatherum. 

It was necessary to commence de novo, but this could no longer 
be done with the first course, which was removed, and Aristabulus 
set to with zeal forthwith on the game. Necessity compelled him 
to eat, as the different dishes were offered; and such M’^as his ordi- 
nary assiduity with the knife and fork, that, at the end of the second 
remove, he had actually disposed of more food than any other person 
at table. He now began to converse, and we shall open the con- 
versation at the precise point in the dinner when it was in the power 
of Aristabulus to make one of the interlocutors. 

• Unlike Mr. Dodge, he had betra 3 ^ed no peculiar interest in the 
baronet, being a man too shrewd and worldly to set his heart on 
trifles of any sort; and Mr. Bragg no more hesitated about replying 


HOME AS EOUKD. 


19 


to Sir George Teniplemore or Mr. Effingham than he would have 
hesitated about answering one of his own nearest associates. With 
him age and experience formed no particular claims to be heard, 
and, as to rank, ft is true he had some vague ideas about there being 
such a thing in the militia, but as it was ’ unsalaried rank, he at- 
tached no great importance to it. Sir George Teniplemore was in- 
quiring concerning the recording of deeds, a regulation that had re- 
cently attracted attention in England; and one of Mr. Effingham’s 
replies contained some immaterial inaccuracy, which Arisfabulus 
took occasion to correct, as his first appearance in the general dis- 
course. 

“ I ask pardon, sir,” he concluded his explanations by saying, 
“ but 1 ought to know these little niceties, having served a short 
part of a term as a county clerk, to fill a vacancy occasioned by a 
death.” 

“ You mean, Mr. Bragg, that you were employed to write in a 
county clerk's office,” observed John Effingham, who so much dis- 
liked untruth that he did not hesitate much about refuting it, or 
what he now fancied to be an untruth. 

” As county clerk, sir. Major Pippin died a year before his time 
was out, and 1 got the appointment. As regular a county clerk, sir, 
as there is in the fifty-six counties of New York.” 

“ When 1 had the honor to engage you as Mr. Effingham’s agent, 
sir,” returned the other, a little sternly, for he felt his own character 
for veracity involved in that of the subject of his selection, “ 1 be- 
lieved, indeed, that you were writing in the office, but 1 did not un- 
derstand it was as the clerk.” 

“ Very true, Mr. John,” returned Aristabiilus, without discover- 
ing the least concern, ‘‘ 1 was then engaged by my successor as a 
clerk; but a tew months earlier, 1 filled the office mj^self.” 

” Had you gone on, in the regular line of promotion, my dear 
sir,” pithily inquired Captain Truck, “to what preferment would 
you have risen by this time?” 

“ 1 believe I understand you, gentlemen,” returned the unmoved 
Aristabulus, who perceived a general smile. “1 know that some 
people are particular about keeping pretty much on the same level, 
as to office; but 1 hold to no such doctrine. If one good thing can 
not be had, 1 do not see that it is a reason for rejecting another. 1 
ran that year for sheriff, and finding that 1 was not strong enough 
to carry the county, 1 accepted my successor’s offer to write in the 
office, until something better might turn up.” 

“ You practiced all this time, I believe, Mr. Bragg,” observed John 
Effingham. 

“ I did a little in that way too, sir; or as much as I could. Law 
is flat with us of late, and many of the attorneys are turning their 
attention to other callings.” 

“ And pray, sir,” asked Sir George, “ what is the favorite pursuit 
with most of them just now?” 

“ Some our way have gone into the horse-line; but much the 
greater portion are just now dealing in western cities.” 

“ In western cities!” exclaimed the baronet, looking as if he dis- 
trusted a mystification. 


^0 HOME AS FOUND. 

“ In such articles, and in mill-seats, and railroad lines, and other 
expectations.” 

‘‘Mr. Bragg means that they are buying and selling lands on 
which it is hoped all these conveniences may exist a century hence,” 
explained John Effingham. 

‘‘ The hope is for next year, or next week even, Mr. John,” re- 
turned Aristabulus, with a sly look, ‘‘ though you may be very right 
as to the reality. Great fortunes have been made on a capital of 
hopes, lately, in this country.” 

‘‘And have you been able yourself to resist these temptations?” 
asked Mr. Effingham. ‘‘ 1 feel doubly indebted to you, sir, that 
you should have continued to devote your time to my interests, 
while so many better things were offering.” 

‘‘It was my duty, sir,” said Aristabulus, bowing so much the 
lower, from the consciousness that he had actually deserted his post 
for some months, to embark in the western speculations that were 
then so active in the country, ” not to sslj my pleasure. There are 
many profitable occupations in this country. Sir George, that have 
been overlooked in the eagerness to embark in the town-trade — ” 

‘‘ Mr. Bragg does not mean trade in tuwn, but trade in towns,” 
explained John Effingham. 

“Yes, sir, the traffic in cities. 1 never come this way without 
casting an eye about me, in order to see if there is anything to be 
done that is useful; andl confess that several available opportunities 
have offered, if one had capital. Milk is a good business.” 

Le lent!'* exclaimed Mademoiselle Viefville, involuntarily. 

‘‘Yes, ma’am, for ladies as well as gentlemen. Sweet potatoes I 
have heard well spoken of, and peaches are really making some rich 
men’s fortunes.” 

” All of which are honester and better occupations than the traffic 
in cities that you have mentioned,” quietly observed Mr. Effingham. 

Aristabulus looked up in a little surprise, for with him everything 
■was eligible that returned a good profit, and all things honest that 
the law did not actually punish. Perceiving, however, that the 
company was disposed to listen, and having by this time recovered 
the lost ground, in the way of food, he cheerfully resumed his 
theme. 

” Many families have left Otsego, this and the last summer, Mr. 
Effingham, as emigrants tor the West. The fever has spread far 
and wide.” 

‘‘ The fever! Is old Otsego,” for so its inhabitants loved to call a 
county of half a century’s existence, it being venerable by compari- 
son, ‘‘ is old Otsego losing its well-established cliaracter for salu- 
brity?” 

‘‘ 1 do not allude to an animal feyer, but to the western fever.” 

‘‘ Ce pays de Vouest est-il bieii maUain?” whispered Mademoi- 
selle Viefville. 

Apparemment, mademoiselle, sous plusieurs rapports.^ ^ 

‘‘ The western fever has seized old and young, and it has carried 
off many active families from our part of the world,” continued 
Aristabulus, who did not understand the little aside just mentioned, 
and who, of course, did not heed it; ‘‘ most of the counties adjoin- 
ing our own have lost a considerable portion of their population.” 


HOME AS EOUJsD. 


2i 


“ And they who have gone, do they belong to the permanent 
families, or are they merely the floating inhabitants?” inquired Mr. 
Effingham. 

” Most of them belong to the regular movers.” 

” Movers!” again exclaimed Sii George—” is there any material 
part of your population who actually deserve this name?” 

As much so as the man who shoes a horse ought to be called a 
smith, or the man who frames a house a carpenter,” answered John 
EflSngham. 

” To be sure,” continued Mr. Bragg, ” we have a pretty consid- 
erable leaven of them in our political dough as well as in our active 
business. 1 believe, Sir George, that in England men are tolerably 
stationary.” 

“We love to continue for generations on the same spot. AYe love 
the tree that our forefathers planted, the roof that they built, the fire- 
side by which they sat, the sods that cover theii remains.” 

” Very poetical, and 1 daresay there are situations in life in which 
such feelings come in without much effort. It must be a great check 
to business operations, however, in your part of the world, sir!” 

‘‘ Business operations! What is business, as you term it, sir, to the 
affections, to the recollections of ancestry, and to the solemn feelings 
connected with history and tradition?” 

” AVhy, sir, in the way of history, one meets with but few incum- 
brances in this country, but he may do very much as interest indi- 
cates, so far as that is concerned, at least. A nation is much to be 
pitied that is weighed down by the past, in this manner, since its in- 
dustry and enterprise are constantly impeded by obstacles that grow 
out of its recollections. America may, indeed, be termed a happy 
and a free country, Mr. John Effingham, in this, as well as in all 
other things!” 

Sir George Templemore was too well-bred to utter all he felt at 
that moment, as it would unavoidably wound the feelings of his 
hosts, but he was rewarded for his forbearance by intelligent smiles 
from Eve and Grace, the latter of whom, the young baronet fancied, 
just at that moment, was quite as beautiful as her cousin, and if 
less finished in manners, she had the most interesting naivete. 

”1 have been told that most old nations have to struggle with 
difficulties that we escape,” returned John Effingham, “ though 1 
confess this is a superiority cn our part that never before presented 
itself to my mind.” 

” The political economists, and even the geographers, have over- 
looked it, but practical men see and feel its advantages every hour 
in the day. I have been told, Sir George Templemore, that in Eng- 
land there are difficulties in running highwa 3 ^s and streets through 
homesteads and dwellings; and that even a railroad or a canal is 
obliged to make a curve to avoid a church-yard or a tombstone?” 

” 1 confess to the sin, sir.” 

‘‘ Our friend Mr. Bragg,” put in John Effingham, ” considers life 
as all means and no end.” 

” An end cannot be got at without the means, Mr. John Effing- 
ham, as 1 trust you will yourself admit. 1 am for the end of the 
road, at least, and must say that 1 rejoice in being a native of a 
country in which us few impediments as possible exist to onward 


22 


HOME AS FOUND. 


impulses. The man who should resist an improvement in our part 
of the country, on account ot his forefathers, would fare badly 
among his contemporaries.” 

” VVill you permit me to ask, Mr. Bragg, if you feel no local at- 
tachments yourself?” inquired the baronet, throwing as much deli- 
cacy into the tones of his voice as a question that he felt ought to 
he an insult to a man’s heart would allow — “ if one tree is not more 
pleasant than another; the house you were born in more beautiful 
than a house into which you never entered; or the altar at which 
you have long worshiped, more sacred than anotlier at which you 
never knelt?” 

” Nothing gives me greater satisfaction than to answer questions 
of gentlemen that travel through our countiy,” returned Aristabu- 
lus, ” for 1 think, in making nations acquainted with each oUier, 
we encourage trade and render business more secure. To reply to 
your inquiry, a human oeing is not a cat, to love a locality rather 
than its own interests. 1 have found some trees much pleasanter 
than others, and the pleasantest tree 1 can remember was one of my 
own, out of which the sawyers made a thousand feet of clear stuff, 
to say nothing of middlings. The house 1 was born in was pulled 
down shortly after my birth, as indeed has been its successor, so I 
can tell you nothing on that head ; and as for altars, there are none 
in my persuasion.” 

‘‘The church of Mr. Bragg has stripped itself as naked as he 
would strip everything else, if he could,” said John Effingham. 
‘‘ 1 must question it he ever knelt even; much less before the altar.” 

‘‘We are of the standing order, certainly,” returned Aristabulus, 
glancing toward the ladies to discover how they took his wit, ‘‘ and 
Mr. John Effingham is as near right as a man need be, in a matter 
ot faith. In the way of houses, Mr. Effingham, 1 believe it is the 
general opinion you might have done better with your own, than to 
have repaired it. Had the materials been disposed of, they would 
have sold well, and by lunning a street through the property, a 
pretty sum might have been realized.” 

‘‘ In which case 1 should have been without a home, Mr. Bragg.” 

‘‘ It would have been no great matter to get another on cheaper 
land. The old residence would have made a good factory or an 
inn.” 

‘‘ !Sir, 1 am a cat, and like the places 1 have long frequented.” 

Aristabulus, though not easily daunted, was awed by Mr, Effing- 
ham’s manner, and Eve saw that her father’s fine face had flushed. 
Tills inteiruption, therefore, suddenly changed the discourse, wffiich 
has been related at some length, as likely to give the reader a better 
insight into a character that wdll fill some space in our narrative, 
than a more labored description. 

‘‘ 1 irust your owners. Captain Truck,” said John Effingham, by 
way of turning the conversation into another channel, ‘‘ are fully 
satisfied with the manner in which you saved their property from 
the hands ot the Arabs?” 

‘‘ Men, when money is concerned, are more disposed to remember 
how it was lost than how it was recovered, religion and trade being 
the two poles, on such a point,” returned the old seaman, with a 
serious face. ‘‘ On the whole, my dear sir, 1 have reason to be satis- 


ilOME A3 EOUND. 


23 

fieci, however; and so long as you, my passengers and my friends, 
are not inclined to blame me, 1 shall feel as if 1 had done at least a 
part of my dut 3 ^” 

Eve rose from the table, went to a side-board and returned, when 
she gracefully placed before the master of the “ Montauk ” a rich 
and beautifully chased punch-bowl in silver. Almost at the same 
moment, Pierre offered a salver that contained a capital watch, a 
pair of small tongs to hold a coal, and a deck trumpet, in solid 
silver. 

“ These are so many faint testimonials of our feelings,” said Eve 
— ” and you will do us the favor to retain them, as- evidences of the 
esteem created by skill, kindness, and courage.” 

” My dear young lady!” cried the old tar, touched to the soul by 
the feeling with which Eve acquitted herself of this little duty, 
” my dear young lady— well, God bless you — God bless you all — you 
too, 'Mr. John Effingham, for that matter— and Sir George— that 1 
should ever have taken that runaway for a gentleman and a baronet 
— though 1 suppose there are some silly baronets, as well as silly 
lords — retain them?” glancing furiously at Mr, Arislabulus Bragg, 
” may the Lord forget me in the heaviest hurricane, if 1 ever foiget 
whence these things came, and why they were given.” 

Here the worthy captain was obliged to swallow some wine, by 
way of relieving his emotions, and Aristabulus, profiting by the 
opportunity, coolly took the bowl, which, to use a word of liis own, 
he hefted in his hand, with a view to form some tolerably accurate 
notion of its intrinsic value. Captain Truck’s eye caught the action, 
and be reclaimed his property quite as unceremoniously^ as it had 
been taken away ; nothing but the presence of the ladies prevented 
an outbreaking that would have amounted to a declaration of war. 

” With your permission, sir,” said the captain dryly, after he 
had recovered the bowl, not only without the other’s consent, but 
in some degree against his will; “this bowl is as precious in my 
eyes as if it were made of my father’s bones.” 

“You may indeed think so,” returned the land-agent, “ for its 
cost could not be less than a hundred dollars.” 

“ Cost, sir! But, my dear young lady, let us talk of the real 
value. For what part of these things am 1 indebted to you?” 

“ The bowl is my offering,” Eva answered smilingly, though a 
tear glistened in her eye, as she witnessed the strong unsophisticated 
feeling of the old tar. “ 1 thought it might serve sometimes to 
bring me to your recollection, when it was well filled in honor of 
‘ sweethearts and wives.’ ” 

“ It shall — it shall, by the Lord; and Mr. Saunders needs look' to 
it, it he do not keep this wwk as bright as a cruising frigate’s bot- 
tom. To whom do 1 owe the coal -tongs?” 

“ Those are from Mr. John Effingham, who insists that he will 
come nearer to your heart than any of us, though the gift be of so 
little cost.” 

‘ ‘ He does not know me, my dear young lady —nobody ever got 
as near my heart as you; no, not even my own dear pious old 
mother. But 1 thank Mr. John Effingham from my inmost spirit, 
and shall seldom smoke without thinking of him. The watch I 
know is Mr. Effingham’s, and 1 ascribe the trumpet to Sir George.” 


24 


HOME AS FOUND. 


The bows ot the several gentlemen assured the captain he was 
right, and he shook each of them cordially by the hand, protesting, 
in'the tulluess of his heart, that nothing would give him greater 
pleasure than to be able to go through the same perilous scenes as 
those from which they had so lately escaped, in their good company 
again. 

While this was going on, Aristabulus, notwithstanding the rebuke 
he had received, contrived to get each article, in succession, into 
his hands, and by dint of poising it on a finger, or by examining it, 
to form some approximative notion of its inherent value. The 
watch he actually opened, taking as good a survey of its works as 
the circumstances ot the case would very well allow. 

1 respect these things, sir, more than you respect your father’s 
grave,” said Captain Truck sternly, as he rescued the last article 
from what he thought the impious grasp ot Aristabulus again, ‘‘ and 
cat ur no cat, they sink or swim with me for the remainder of the 
cruise. It there is any virtue in a will, which 1 am sorry to say 1 
hear there is not any longer, they shall share my last bed with me, 
be it ashore or be it afloat. My dear young lady, fancy all the rest, 
but depend on it, punch will be sweeter than ever taken from this 
bowl, and ‘ sweethearts and wives ’ will never be so honored again. 

” AVe are going to a ball this evening, at the house of one with 
whom 1 am sufficiently intimate to take the liberty of introducing a 
stranger, and 1 ivish, gentlemen,” said Mr. Effingham, bowing to 
Aristabulus and the captain, by way of changing the conversation, 
“ you would do me the favor to be of our party.” 

Mr. Bragg acquiesced very cheerfully, and quite as a matter of 
course; while Captain Truck, after protesting his unfitness for such 
scenes, was finally prevailed on by John Effingham to comply with 
the request also. The ladies remained at table but a few minutes 
longer, when the}'’ retired, Mr. Effingham having dropped into the 
old custom of sitting a( the bottle until summoned to the drawing- 
room, a usage that continues to exist in America, for a reason no 
better than the fact that it continues to exist in England; it being 
almost certain that it wiU cease in New York the season after it is 
known to have ceased in London. 


CHAPTER 111. 

Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful! 

Shakespeare. 

As Captain Truck asked permission to initiate the new coal-tongs 
by lighting a cigar. Sir George Templemore contrived to ask Pierre, 
in an aside, if the ladies would allow him to join them. The desired 
consent having been obtained, the baronet quietly stole from table, 
and was soon beyond the odors of the dining-room. 

” You miss the censer and the frankincense,” said Eve, laughing, 
as Sir George entered the drawing-room; “but you will reniember 
we have no church establishmeni, and dare not take such liberties 
with the ceremoni&ls of the altar.” 

“ That is a short-lived custom with us, 1 fancy, though far from 
an unpleasant one. But you do me injustice in supposing lam 
merely running away from the fumes of the dinner.” 


HOME AS FOUXD. 


25 


“ No, no; we understand perfectly well that you have something 
to do with the fumes of flattery, and we will at once fancy all has 
been said that the occasion requires. Is not our honest old captain 
a jewel in his way?” 

“ Upon my word, since you allow me to speak of your father’s 
guests, 1 do not think it possible to have brought together two 
such men who are so completely the opposites of each other, as 
5 Captain Truck and this Mr. Aristabulus Bragg. The latter is quite 
the most extraordinary person in his way it was ever my good 
fortuhe to meet with.” 

You call him a person, while Pierre calls him a personage; 1 
fancy he considers it very much as a matter of accident, whether he 
is to pass his days in the one character or in the other. Cousin 
Jack assures me, that while this man accepts almost any duty that 
he chooses to assign him, he would not deem it at all a violation of 
the convenances to aim at the throne in the White House.” 

‘‘ Certainly with no hopes of ever attaining it!” 

“One can not answer tor that. The man must undergo many 
essential changes, and much radical improvement, before such a 
climax to his fortunes can ever occur; but the instant y'ou do away 
with the claims of hereditary power, the door is opened to a new 
chapter of accidents. Alexander of Russia styled himself unheureux 
accident ; and should it ever be our fortune to receive Mr. Bragg as 
president, we shall only have to term him un malheureux accident. 
1 believe that will contain all the difference.” 

” Your republicanism is indomitable. Miss EflBngham, and 1 shall 
abandon the attempt to convert you to safer principles, more espe- 
cially as 1 find you supported by both the Mr. Effinghams, who, while 
they condemn so much at home, seem singularly attached to their 
own system at the bottom.” 

‘‘ They condemn. Sir George Templemore, because they know that 
perfection is hopeless, and bectiuse they feel it to be unsafe and un- 
wise to eulogize defects; and they are attached, because near views 
of other countries have convinced them that, comparatively at least, 
bad as we are, we are still better than most of our neighbors.” 

” 1 can assure you,” said Grace, ‘‘ that many of the opinions of 
Mr. John Effingham, in particular, are not at all the opinions that 
7 are most in vogue here; he rather censures what we like, and likes 
what we censure. Even my dear uncle is thought to be a little 
heterodox on such subjects.” 

” 1 can readily believe it,” returned Eve, steadily. ‘‘ These gen- 
tlemen having become familiar with better things in the way of the 
tastes and of the purely agreeable, can not discreuit their own knowl- 
edge so much as to extol that which their own experience tells them 
is faulty, or condemn that which their own experience tells them is 
relatively good. Now, Grace, yon will reflect a moment, you 
will perceive that people necessarily like the best of their own tastes 
until they come to a knowledge of better, and that they as necessarily 
quarrel with the unpleasant facts that surround them, although 
these facts, as consequences of a political system, may be much less 
painful than those of other systems of which they have no knowl- 
edge. In the one case they like iheir own best, simply because it is 
their own best; and they dislike their own worst, because it is their 


26 


HOME AS FOUND. 


own worst’. "We cherish a taste in the nature ot thinp:s without 
entering into any comparisons; for when the means of comparison 
offer, and w’e line! improvements, it ceases to be a taste at all, while 
to complain of any positive grievance, is the nature of man, I tear.’' 

“ 1 think a republic odious!” 

"La repuhlique est une horreur I" 

Grace thought a republic odious, without knowing anything of 
any other state of society, and because it contained odious things, 
and Mademoiselle Viefville called a republic une horreur because 
heads fell and anarchy prevailed in her own country during its early 
struggles lor liberty. Though Eve seldom spoke more sensibly and 
never more temperately than while delivering the foregoing opin- 
ions, Sir George Templemore doubted whether she had all that qk- 
quislte finesse and delicacy of features that he had so muph admired, 
and when Grace burst out in the sudden and senseless exclamation we 
have recorded, he turned toward her sweet and animated counte- 
nance, w^hich, for the moment, he fancied the lovelier ot the two. 

Eve Effingham had yet to learn that she had just entered into ttie 
most intolerant society, meaning purely as society, and in connection 
with what are usually called liberal sentiments, in Christendom, ^\ e 
do not mean by this, that it w^ould be less safe to utter a generous 
opinion in favor of human rights in. America than in any other 
country, for the laws and the institutions become active in this re- 
spect; but simply that the resistance of the more refined to the en- 
croachments of the uniefined, has brought about a state ot feeling— 
a feeling that is seldom just and never philosophical— which has 
created a silent but almost unanimous bias against the effects of the 
institutions in what is called the world. In Europe one rarely utters 
a sentiment ot this nature under circumstances in which it is safe to 
do so at all, without finding a very general sympathy in the auditors; 
but in the circle into which Eve had now fallen, it was almost con- 
sidered a violation of the proprieties. We do not wish to be under- 
stood as saying more than we mean, however; for we have no man- 
ner of doubt that a large portion of the dissentients even, are so idly, 
and without reflection, or for the very natural reasons already given 
by our heroine; but we do wish to be understood as meaning that 
such is the outward appearance which American society presents to 
every stranger, and to every native of the country too, on his return 
from a residence among other people. Of its taste, wisdom, and 
safety we shall not now speak, content ourselves with merely saying 
that the effect of Grace’s exclamation on Eve was unpleasant, and 
that, unlike the baronet, she thought her cousin was never less hand- 
some than while her pretty face was covered with the pettish frown 
it had assumed for the occasion. 

Sir George Templemore had tact enough to perceive there had 
been a slight jar in the feelings of these twm young women, and he 
adroitly changed the conversation. With Eve he had entire confi- 
dence on the score of provincialism, and, without exactly anticipat- 
ing the part Grace would be likely to take in such a discussion, he 
introduced the subject of general society in New York. 

”1 am desirous to know,” he said, “ if you have your sets, as 
we have them in London and Paris. Whether you have your Fau- 


HO.ME AS FOUND. 27 

bourg St. Germain and your Chaiissee d’Antin; your Piccadilly, 
Grosvenoi and Russell Squares?” 

” 1 must refer you to Miss Van Cortlandt for an answer to that 
question,” said Eve. 

Grace looked up blushing; for there were both novelty and excite- 
ment in having an intelligent foreigner question her on such a sub- 
ject. 

‘‘ 1 do not know that I rightly understand the allusion,” she said; 
” although 1 am afraid Sir George Templemore means to ask if we 
have distinctions in society?” 

“And why afraid, Miss Van Cortlandt?” 

“ Because it strikes me such a question would imply a doubt of 
our civilization.” 

“ There are frequently distinctions made, when the differences are 
not obvious,” observed Eve. “Even London and. Paris are not 
above the imputation of this folly. Sir George Templemore, if I 
understand him, wishes to know if we estimate gentility by streets, 
and quality by squares.” 

“ Not exactly that either, Miss Effingham; but, whether among 
those who may very well pass lor gentlemen and ladies, you enter 
into the minute distinctions that are elsewhere found. Whether you 
have your exclusives and your elegants and elegantes; or whether 
you deem all within the pale' as on an equality?” 

'' Les femmes Americaines sont Uen jolies/” exclaimed Made- 
moiselle Vielville. 

“ It is quite impossible that coteries should not form in a town of 
three hundred thousand souls.” 

“1 do not mean exactly that. Is there no distinction between 
coteries? Is not one placed by opinion, by a silent consent, if not 
by positive ordinances, above another?” 

“ Certainly, that to which Sir George Templemore alludes is to 
be found,” said Grace, who gained courage to speak, as she found 
the subject getting to be more clearly within her comprehension. 
“ All the old families, for instance, keep more together than the 
others, though it is the subject of regret that they are not more par- 
ticular than they are.” 

“ Old families!” exclaimed Sir George Templemore, with quite 
as much stress as a well-bred man could very well lay on the words 
, in such circumstances. 

“ Old families,” repeated Eve, with all that emphasis which the 
baronet himself had hesitated about giving. “ As old at least as two 
centuries can make them, and this, too, with origins beyond that 
period, like those of the rest of the world. Indeed, the American 
has a better gentility than common, as, besides his own, he may take 
root in that of Europe. ’ ’ 

“ Do not misconceive me. Miss Effingham. 1 am fully aware that 
the people of this country are exactly like the people of all other 
civilized countries in this respect; but my surprise is that, in a 
repub. ic, you should have such a term even as that of ‘ old fami- 
lies.’ ” 

“ The surprise has arisen, 1 must be permitted to say, from not 
having sufficiently reflected on tlie real state of the country. There 
ate two great causes of distinction everywdiere, wealth and merit. 


28 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


Now if a race of Americans continue conspicuous in their own 
society, through either or both of these causes for a succession of 
generations, why have they not the same claim to be considered 
members of old families as Europeans under the same circumstances? 
A republic history is as much history as a monarchical history; and 
a historical name in one, is quite as much entitled to consideration- 
as a historical name in another. Nay, you admit this in your 
European republics, while you wish to deny it in ours.” 

“ I must insist on having proofs; if we permit these charges' to be 
brought against us without evidence. Mademoiselle Viefville, we 
shalT finally be defeated through our own neglect.” 

” C'est une belle illustration, celle de Vantiquite,’" observed the 
governess, in a matter-of-course tone. 

” If you insist on proof, what answer can you urge to the Cap- 
poni? ' 8onnez‘W8 trompettes, et je rats faire sonner mes cloches* 
—or to the Von Erlachs, a family that has headed so many r^^sist- 
ances to oppression and invasion five centuries?” 

” All this is very true,” returned Sir George, and yet 1 confess 
it is not the way in which it is usual with us to consider American 
society.” 

‘‘A descent from Washington,* with a character and a social posi- 
tion to correspond, would not be absolutely vulgar, notwithstand- 
ing!” 

“ Nay, if you press me so hard, 1 must appeal to Miss Van Cort- 
landt for succor.” 

” On this point you will find no support in that quarter; Miss 
Van Cortland t has an historical name herself, and will not forego an 
honest pride, in order to relieve one of the hostile powers from a 
dilemma.” 

” While 1 admit that time and merit must, in a certain sense, 
place families in America in the same situation with families in 
Europe, 1 can not see that it is in conformity with your institutions 
to lay the same stress on the circumstance.” 

” In that we are perfectly of a mind, as I think the American has 
much the best reason to be proud of his family,” said Eve, quietly. 

” l ou delight in paradoxes, apparently, this evening, Miss Effing- 
ham, for 1 now feel very certain you can hardly make out a plausi- 
ble defense of this new position.” 

” If 1 had my old ally, Mr. Powis, liere,” said Eve, touching the 
fender unconsciously with her little foot, and perceptibly losing the 
animation and pleasantry of her voice, in tones that were growing 
gentler, it not melancholy, ” 1 should ask him to explain thfs matter 
to you, for he was singularly ready in such replies. As he is absent, 
however, 1 will attempt the duty myself. In Europe, office, power, 
and consequently consideration, are all hereditary; whereas, in this 
country, they are not, but depend on selection. Now, surely, one has 
more reason to be proud of ancestors who have been chosen to fill 
responsible stations, than of ancestors who have filled them through 
the accidents, heureuxou malheureux, of birth. The only difiference 
between England and America, as respects families, is that you add 
positive rank to that to which we only give consideration. Senti- 
ment is at the bottom of our nobility, and the great seal at the bot- 
tom of yours. And now, having established the fact that there are 


HOME AS FOUND. 


29 


families in America, let us return whence we started, and inquire 
how far they have an influence in every-day society.” 

” To ascertain which, we must apply to Miss Van Cortlandt.” 

” Much less than they ought, if my opinion is to be taken,” said 
Grace, laughing, “ for the great inroad of strangers has completely 
deranged all the suitablenesses in that respect.” 

” And yet, 1 dare say these very strangers do good,” rejoined 
Eve. “Many of them must have been respectable in their native 
places, and ought to be an acquisition to a society that in its nature 
must be, Grace, iant soit peu, provincial.” 

” Oh!” cried Grace, ” 1 can tolerate anything but the Hajjis!” 

“The what?” asked Sir George, eagerly — “will you suflei me 
to ask an explanation. Miss Van Cortlandt?” 

“ The Hajjis,” repeated Grace, laughing, though she blushed to 
the eyes. 

The baronet looked from one cousin to the other, and then turned 
an inquiring glance on Mademoiselle Vief ville. The latter gave a 
slight shrug, and seemed to ask an explanation of the young lady’s 
meaning: herself. 

“ A Hajji is one of a class. Sir George Templemore,” Eve at 
length said, “ to which you and 1 have both the honor of belong- 
ing.” 

“ No, not Sir George Templemore,” interrupted Grace, with a 
precipitation that she instantly regretted; “ he is not an American.” 

“ Ihen I alone, of all present liave that honor. It means the pil- 
grimage to Pans instead of Mecca; and the pilgrim must be an 
American instead of a Mohammedan.” 

“Nay, Eve, you are not a Hajji, neither.” 

“ Then there' is some qualification with which 1 am not yet ac- 
quainted. Will you relieve our doubts, Grace, and let us know the 
precise character of the animal?” 

“You stayed too long to be a Hajji— ^one must get inoculated 
merely, not take the disease and become cured, to be a true Hajji.” 

“ 1 thank you. Miss Van Cortlandt, for this description,” returned 
Eve, in her quiet way. “ I hope, as 1 have gone through the mal- 
ady, it has not left me pitted.” 

“ I should like to see one of these Hajjis,” cried Sir George. 
“ Are they of both sexes?” 

Grace laughed, and nodded her head. 

“Will you point it out to me, should we be so fortunate as to en- 
counter one this evening?” 

Again Grace laughed, and nodded her head. 

“ 1 have been thinking, Grace,” said Eve, after a short pause, 
“ that we may give Sir George Templemore a better idea of the sets 
about which he is so curious by doing what is no more than a duty 
of our own, and by letting him profit by the opportunity. Mrs. 
Hawker receives this evening without ceremony; we have not yet 
sent our answer to Mrs. Jarvis, and might very well look in upon 
her for half an hour, after which we shall be in very good season 
for Mrs. Houston’s ball.” 

“ Surely, Eve, you would not wish to take Sir George Temple- 
more to such a house as that of Mrs. Jarvis?” 


30 


HOME AS FOUND. 


“ 1 do not wish to take Sir George Templemore anj' where, for 
3 'our Hajjis have opinions of their own on such subjects. But as 
Cousin Jack will accompany us, he may very well confer that im- 
portant favor. 1 dare say Mrs. Jarvis will not look upon it as too 
great a liberty.” 

” 1 will answer for it, that nothing Mr. John Effingham can do 
will be thought mal-d-propos by Mrs. Jared Jarvis. His position in 
society is too well established, and hers is loo equivocal to leave 
any doubt on that head.” 

‘‘ This, you perceive, settles the point of coteries,'’ said Eve to the 
baronet. ‘‘Volumes might be written to establish principles; but 
when one can do anything he or she pleases, anywhere that he or 
she likes, it is pretty safe to say that he or she is privileged.” 

‘‘ All very true as to the fact. Miss Effingham; but 1 should like 
exceedingly to know the reason.” 

‘‘ Half the time such things are decided without a reason at all. 
You are a little exacting in requiring a reason in New York for that 
which is done in London without even the pretense of such a thing. 
It is sufficient that Mrs. Jarvis will be delighted to see j’ou without 
an invitation, and that Mrs. Houston would at least think it odd 
were you to take the sa^e liberty with her.” 

‘‘It follows,” said Sir George, smiling, ‘‘that Mrs. Jarvis is 
much the more hospitable person of the two.” 

‘‘ But, Eve, what is to be done with Captain Truck, and Mr. 
Bragg?” asked Grace. “ We can not lake them to Mrs. Hawker’s?” 

‘‘ Aristabulus wmuld, indeed, be a little out of place in such a 
house, but as for our excellent, brave, straightforward old captain, 
he is worthy to go anywhere. 1 shall be delighted to present him to 
Mrs. Hawker myself.” 

After a little consultation between the ladies, it was settled that 
nothing should be said of the two first visits to Mr. Bragg, but that 
Mr. Effingham should be requested to bring him to the ball at the 
-proper hour, and that thb rest of the party should go quietly off to 
the other places without mentioning their projects. As soon as this 
was arranged, the ladies retired to dress, Sir Geoige Templemore 
passing into the library to amuse himself with a book the wdiile; 
where, however, he was soon joined by John Effingham. Here the 
former revived the conversation on distinctions in society, with the 
confusion of thought that usually marks a European’s notions of 
such matters. 


CHAPTER IV. 


XXiXU J.. 

And I. 

'VVliere shall we go? 

Midsummer-Night's Jh'eam. 

Grace Van Cortlandt was the first to make her appearance 
after the retreat from the drawing-room. It has often 'been said that 
pretty as the American females incontestably are, as a whole they 
appear better in demi-tMlette, than when attired for a ball. With 
w'hat w'ould be termed high dress in other parts of the world, they 


HOME AS EOU15D., 


31 


are little acquainted; but reversing the rule oi Europe, where the 
maTriecl bestow the most care on their personal appearance, and the 
sino'le are taught to observe a rigid simplicity, Grace no tv seemed 
sufficiently ornamented in the eyes of the fastidious baronet, while 
at the same time he thought her less obnoxious to the criticisms just 
mentioned than most of her young countrywomen in general. 

An embonpoint that was just sufficient to distinguish her from 
most of her companions, a fine color, brilliant eyes, a sweet smile, 
rich hair, and such feet and hands as Sir George Templemore had 
somehow— he scarcely knew how himself — fancied could only be- 
long to the daughters of peers and princes, rendered Grace so strik- 
ingly attractive this evening that the young baronet began to think 
her even handsomer than her cousin. There was also a charm in the 
unsophisticated simplicity of Grace, that was particularly alluring 
to a man educated amidst the coldness and mannerism of the higher 
classes of England. In Grace, too, this simplicity was chastened by 
perfect decorum and retenue oi deportment; the exuberance of the 
new school of manners not having helped to impair fhe dignity of 
her character, or to weaken the charm of diffidence. 8he was less 
finished in her manners than Eve, certainly; a circumstance, per- 
haps, that induced Sir George Templemore to fancy her a shade 
more simple, but she was never unfeminine or unlady- like; and the 
term vulgar, in spite of all the capricious and arbitrary rules of fash- 
ion, under no circumstance could ever be applied to Grace Van Cort- 
landt. In this respect nature seemed to have aided her; for had 
not her associations raised her above such an imputation, no one 
could believe that she would be obnoxious to the charge, had her lot 
in life been cast even many degrees lower than it actually was. 

It is well known that after a sufficient similarity has been created 
by education to prevent any violent shocks to our habits or princi- 
ples, we most affect those whose characters and dispositions the 
least resemble our own. This was probably one of the reasons why 
Sir George Templemore, who for some time had been well assured 
of the hopelessness of his suit with Eve, began to regard her scarce- 
ly less lovely cousin with an interest of a novel and lively nature. 
Quick-sighted and deeply interested in Grace’s happiness. Miss 
Effiugham had already detected this change in the young baronet’s 
inclinations, and though sincerely rejoiced on her own account, she 
did not observe it without^ concern; for she understood better than 
most of her countrywomen the great hazards of destroying her 
peace of mind that are incurred by transplanting an American 
woman into the more artificial circles of the old world. 

“ 1 shall rely on your kind offices in particular. Miss Van Cort- 
landt, to reconcile Mrs. Jarvis ^nd Mrs. Hawker to the liberty 1 am 
about to lake,” cried Sir George, as Grace burst upon them in the 
library in a blaze of beauty that, in her case, was aided by her attire; 
“and cold-hearted and unchristian-like women they must be, in- 
deed, to resist such a mediator!” 

Grace was unaccustomed to adulation of this sort*; for though the 
baronet spoke gayly, and like one halt triflings his look of admira- 
tion was too honest to escape the intuitive perception of woman. 
She blushed deeply, and then recovering herself instantly, said with 
a naivete that had a thousand charms with her listener: 


32 


HOME AS FOUisD. 


“I do not see why Miss Effingham and myself should hesitate 
about introducing you at either place. Mrs. Hawker is a relative 
and an intimate— an intimate of mine, at least— and as for poor Mrs. 
Jarvis, she is the daughter of an old neighbor, and will be too glad 
to see us to raise objection. I fancy any one of a certain — ” Grace 
hesitated and laughed. 

“ Any one of a certain—?” said Sir George inquiiingly. 

” Any one from this house,” resumed the young lady, correcting 
the intended expression, ” will he welcome in Spring Street.” 

” Pure native aristocracy!” exclaimed the baronet, witli an air of 
affected triumph. ‘‘ This, you see, Mr. John Effingham, is in aid 
of my argument.” 

*' 1 am quite of your opinion,” returned the gentleman addressed; 
“ as much native aristocracy as you please, but no hereditary.” 

The entrance of Eve and Mademoiselle Viefville interrupted this 
pleasantry, and the carriages being just then announced, John 
Effingham went in quest of Captain Truck, who was in the draw- 
ing-room with Mr. Effingham and Aristabulus. 

‘‘1 have left Ned to discuss trespass suits and leases with his 
land-agent,” said John Effingham, as he followed Eve to the street- 
door. ” By ten o'clock, they will have taxed a pretty bill of costs 
between them!” 

Mademoiselle Viefville followed John Effingham; Grace came 
next, and Bir George Templemore and the captain brought up the 
rear. Grace wondered the young baronet did not offer her his arm, 
for she had been accustomed to receive this attention from the other 
sex in a hundred situations in which it was rather an incumbrance 
than a service; while, on the other hand, Sir George himself would 
nave hesitated about offering such assistance, as an act of uncalled- 
for familiarity. 

Miss Van Coitlandt, being much in society, kept a chariot for her 
own use, and the three ladies took their seats in it, while the gentle- 
men took possession of Mr. Effingham’s coach. The order was given 
to drive to Spring Street, and the whole party proceeded. 

The acquaintance between the Effinghams and Mr. Jarvis had 
arisen from the fact ot their having been near, and, in a certain 
sense, soQigble neighbors in the country. Their town associations, 
however, were as distinct as if they dwelt in different hemispheres, 
with the exception of an occasional morning call, and now and then 
a family dinner given by Mr. Effingham.*Buch had been the nature 
ot the intercourse previously to the family of the latter’s having gone 
abroad, and there were symptoms of its being renewed on the sarqe 
quiet and friendly footing as formerly. But no two beings could be 
less alike, in certain essentials, than Mr. Jarvis and his wife. The 
former was a plain, painstaking, sensible man of business, while the 
latter had an intching desire lo figure in the w^orld of fashion. The 
first was perfectly aware that Mi. Effingham, in education, habits, 
associations, and manners, was, at least, of a class entirely distinct 
from his own; and without troubling himself to anal 3 ^ze causes, and 
without a feeling of envy or unkindness of any sort, while totally 
exempt from any undue reference or unmanly cringing, he quietly 
submitted to let things take their course. His wife expressed her 
surprise that au}^ one in New York should presume to be better than 


HOME AS FOUXD. 


33 


fhemeelves; and the remaik gave rise to the tollowing short conver- 
sation on the very morning of the day she gave the party to which 
we are now conducting the reader. 

“ How do you know, my dear, that any one does think himself 
our better?” demanded the husband. 

“ Why do they not all visit us, then?” 

“ Why do you not visit everybody yourself? A pretty household 
we should have, if you did nothing but visit every one who lives even 
in this street!” 

” You surely would not have me visiting the grocers’ wives at the 
corners, and all the other rubbish of I he neighborhood. What 1 
mean is, that all the people of a certain sort ought to visit all the 
other people of a certain sort, in the same town.” 

” You surely will make an exception, at least on account of num- 
bers. 1 saw number three thousand six hundred and fifty this very 
day on a cart, and if the wives of all these carmen should visit one 
another, each would have to make ten visits daily in order to get 
through with the list in a twelvemonth.” 

” r'^have alwap bad luck in making you comprehend these 
things, Mr. Jarvis.” 

” i am afraid, my dear, it is because you do not very clearly com- 
prehend them yourself, llfou first say that everybody ought to visit 
everybody, and then you insist on it you will visit none but those 
you think good enough to be visited by Mrs. Jared Jarvis.” 

” What I mean is, that no one in New York has a right to think 
himself or herself better than oursehes.” 

” Better? Jn what sense better?” 

“In such a sense as to induce them to think themselves too good 
to visit us.” 

‘‘That may be your opinion, my dear, but others may judge 
differently. You clearly think yourself too good to visit Mrs. Onion, 
the grocer’s wife, who is a capital woman in her way; and how do 
we know that certain people may not fancy we are not quite refined 
enough for them? Refinement is a positive thing, Mrs. Jarvis, and 
one that has much more influence on the pleasures of association than 
money. We may want a hundred little perfections that escape our 
ignorance, and which those who are trained to such matters deem 
essentials.” 

” 1 never met' with' a man of so litile social spirit, Mr. Jarvis! 
Really, you are quite unsuited to be a citizen of a republican coun- 
try.”' 

” Republican! I do not really see what republican has to do with 
the question. In the first place, it is a droll word for. you to use, in 
this sense at least, for, taking your own meaning of the term, you 
are as anti-republican as any woman 1 know. But a republic does 
not necessarily infer equality of condition, or even equality of rights 
— it meaning merely the substitution of the right of the common- 
wealth for the right of a prince. Had you said democracy, there 
would have been some plausibility in using the word, though even 
then its application would have been illogical. If 1 am a freeman 
and a democrat, 1 hope 1 have the justice t o allow others to be just 
as free and democratic as 1 am myself.” 

” And who wishes the contrary? All 1 ask is a claim to be con- 


34 HOME AS FOUKD, 

sidered a fit associate for anybody in this country— in these United 
Stales of America/’ 

“ I would quit these United States of America next week if 1 
thought there existed any necessity for such an intolerable state of 
things.” 

” Mr. Jarvis! and you, too, one of the Committee of Tammany 
Hall!” 

” Yes, Mrs. Jarvis, and I one of the Committee of Tammany Hall 1 
What! Do you think 1 want the three thousand six hundred and 
fifty carmen running in and out of my house, with their tobacco 
saliva and pipes, all day long?” 

” Who is thinking of your carmen and grocers! 1 speak now only 
of genteel people.” 

” In other words, my dear, you are thinking only of those whom, 
you fancy to have the advantage of you, and keep those who thimt 
of you in the same way, quite out of sight. This is not my democ- 
racy and freedom. 1 believe that it requires two people to make a 
bargain; and although I may consent to dine with A — , if A— will 
not consent to dine with me," there is an end of the matter.” 

” Now, you have come to a case in point. Y'ou often dined with 
Mr. Effingham before he went abroad, and yet you would never al- 
low me to ask Mr. Effingham to dine with us. That is what I call 
meanness.” 

*' It might be so, indeed, if it were done 1o save my money. 1 
dined with Mr. Effingham because 1 like him; because he was an 
old neighbor; because he asked me, and because 1 found a pleasure 
in the quiet elegance of his table and society; and 1 did not ask him 
to dine with me, because 1 was satisfied he would be better pleased 
with such a tacit acknowledgment of his superiority in this respect, 
than by any bustling and ungraceful efforts to pay him in kind. Ed- 
ward Effingham has dinners enough without keepmg a debtor and 
credit account with his guests, which is rather too New-T’orkish, 
even for me.” 

” Bustling and ungraceful!’ repeated Mr. Jarvis, bitterly; ” 1 do 
not know that you are at all more bustling and ungraceful than Mr. 
Effingham himself. ” 

‘‘No, my dear, 1 am a quiet, unpretending man, like the great 
majority of my countrymen, thank God.” 

” Then why talk of these sort of differences in a country in which 
the law establishes none?” 

” For precisely the reason that 1 talk of the river at the foot of this 
street, or because there is a river. A tiring may exist without there 
being a law for i.t. There is no law for building this house, and yet 
it is built. There is no law for making Dr. Verse a better preacher 
than Dr. Prolix, and yet he is a much better preacher; neither is 
there any law for making Mr. Effingham a more finished gentleman 
than I happen to be, and yet I am not fool enough to deny the fact. 
In the way of making out a bill of parcels, 1 will not turn my back 
to him, 1 can promise you.” 

‘‘ All this strikes me as being very spiritless, and as particularly 
anti-republican,” said Mrs. Jarvis, rising to quit the room; ” and if 
the Efflnghams do not come this evtning, 1 shall not enter their 


HOME AS EOUKD., 


35 


house this winter. 1 am sure they have no right to pretend to be 
our betters, and 1 feel no disposition to admit the impudent claim.” 

“ Before you go, Jane, let me say a parting word,” rejoined the 
husband, looking for his hat, ” which is just this. If you wish the 
wmrld to believe you the equal of any one, no matter whom, do not 
be always talking about it, lest they see you distrust the fact your- 
self. A positive thing will surely be seen, and they who. have the 
highest claims are the least disposed to be always pressing them on 
the attention of the world. An outrage may certainly be done 
those social rights which have been established by common consent, 
and then it may be proper to resent it; but beware betraying a con- 
sciousness of your own inferiority, by letting every one see you are 
jealous of your station. Now, kiss me; here is the money to pay 
for your finery this evening, and let me see you as happy to receive 
Mrs. Jewett from Albion Place, as you would be to receive Mrs. 
Hawker herself.” 

“Mrs. Hawker!” cried the wife, with a toss of her head, “1 
would not cross the street to invite Mrs. Hawker, and all her clan,” 
which was very true, as Mrs. Jarvis was thoroughly convinced the 
trouble would be unavailing, the lady in question being as near the 
head of fashion in New York as it possible to be in a town that, 
in a moral sense resembles an encampment, quite as much as it re- 
sembles a permanent and a long-existing capital. 

Notwithstanding a great deal of management on the part of Mrs. 
Jarvis to get showy personages to attend her entertainment, the sim- 
ple elegance of the two carriages that bore the Effingham party, 
threw ^1 the other equipages into the shade. The arrival, indeed, 
was deemed a matter of so much moment, that intelligence was con- 
veyed to the lady, who was still at her post in the inner drawing- 
room, of the ariival of a party altogether superior to anything that 
had yet appeared in her rooms. It is true, this was not expressed 
in words, but it was made sufficiently obvious by the breathless 
haste and the air of importance of Mrs. Jarvis’s sister, who had re- 
ceived the news from a servant, and who communicated it in yro- 
prid persona to the mistress of the house. 

The simple, useful, graceful, almost indispensable usage of an- 
nouncing at the door, indispensable to those who receive much, and 
where there is risk of meeting people known to us Dy name and not 
in person, is but little practiced in America. Mrs. Jarvis would 
have shrunk from such an innovation, had she known that else- 
where the custom prevailed, but she was in happy ignorance on this 
point, as on many others that were more essential to the much- 
coveted social eclat at which she aimed. "When Mile. Viefville ap- 
peared, therefore, walking unsupported, as if she were out of lead- 
ing-strings, followed by Eve and Grace, and the gentlemen of their 
party, she at first supposed there was some mistake, and that her 
visitors had got into the wrong house, there being an opposition 
party in the neighborhood. 

‘‘ What brazen people!” whispered Mrs. Abijah Gross, who hav- 
ing removed from an interior New England village, fully two years 
previously, fancied herself au fait of all the niceties of breeding and 
social tact. ‘ ‘ There are positively t wo young ladies actually walking 
about without gentlemen.” 


36 


HOME AS FOUND. 


Bat it was not in the power of Mrs. Abijah Gross, with her 
audible whisper and obvious sneer and laugh, to put down two such 
lovely creatures as Eve and her cousin. The simple elegance of 
their attire, the indescribable air of polish, particularly in the former, 
and the surpassing beauty and modesty of mien of both, effectually 
silenced criticism, after this solitary outbreaking of vulgarity. Mrs. 
Jarvis recognized Eve and John Effingham, and her hurried compli- 
ments and obvious delight proclaimed to all near her the importance 
she attached to their visit. Mademoiselle Viefville she had not 
recollected in her present dress, and even she tvas covered with ex- 
pressions of delight and satisfaction. 

“ 1 wish particularly to present to^you a friend that we all prize 
exceedingly,” said Eve, as soon as there .vas an opportunity of 
speaking. “ This is Captain Truck, the gentleman who commands 
the ‘ Mon tank,’ the ship of which you have heard so much. Ah! 
Mr. Jarvis,” offering a hand to him with sincere cordiality, for Eve 
Had known him from childhood, and always sincerely respected him 
— ” you will receive my friend with a cordial welcome, 1 am cer- 
tain.” 

She then explained to Mr. Jarvis who the honest captan was, when 
the former, first paying the proper respect to his other guests, led 
the old sailor aside,’ and began an earnest conversation on the sub- 
ject of the recent passage. 

John Effingham presented the baronet, whom Mrs. Jarvis out of 
pure ignorance of his rank in his own country, received with perfect 
propriety and self-respect. 

” We have very few people of note in town at present, 1 believe,” 
said Mrs. Jarvis to John Effingham. “ A great traveler, and most 
interesting man, is the only person of that sort 1 could obtain for 
this evening, and 1 shall have great pleasure in introducing you. 
He is there in that crowd, for he is in the greatest possible demand; 
he has seen so much— Mrs. Snow, with your permission —really the 
ladies are thronging about him as if he were a Pawnee — have the 
goodness to step a little this way, Mr. Effingham— Miss Effingham 
— Mrs. Snow, just touch his arm and let him know 1 wish to intro- 
duce a couple of friends. Mr. Dodge, Mr. John Effingham, Miss 
Effingham, Miss Van Cortlandt. 1 hope you may succeed in getting 
him a little to yourselves, ladies, for he can tell you all about 
Europe — saw the king of France riding out to Nully, and has a pro- 
digious knowledge of things on the other side of the water.” 

It required a good deal of Eve’s habitual self-command to prevent 
a smile, but she had the tact and discretion to receive Steadfast as 
an utter stranger. John Effingham bowed as haughtily as man can 
bow, and then it was whispered that he and Mr. Dodge were rival 
travelers. The distance of the former, coupled with an expression 
of countenance that did not invite familiarity, drove nearly all the 
company over to the side of Steadfast, who, it was soon settled, had 
seen much the most of the world, understood society the best, and 
had, moreover, traveled as far as Timbuctooin Africa. The clkntele 
of Mr. Dodge increased rapidly, as these reports spread in the 
rooms, and those who had not read the ‘‘ delightful letters published 
in the ‘ Active Inquirer,’ ” furiously envied those who had enjoyed 
that high advantage. 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


37 

“ It is Mr. Dodge, the great traveler,” said one young lady, who 
had extricated herself from the crowd around the ” lion,” and taken 
a station near Eve and Grace, and who, moreover, was a ‘‘ blue ” in 
her own set; ” his beautiful and accurate descriptions have attracted 
great attention in England, and it is said they have actually been 
republished!” 

” Have you read them. Miss Brackett?” 

, ” Not the letters themselves, absolutely; but all the remarks on 
them in last week’s ‘ Hebdomad.’ Most delightful letters, judging 
from those remarks; full of nature and point, and singularly accu- 
rate in all their facts. In this respect they are invaluaWe, travelers 
do fall into such extraordinary errors!” 

” 1 hope, ma’am,” said John Effingham, gravely, “ that the gen- 
tleman has avoided the capital mistake of commenting on things 
that actually exist. Comments on its facts are generally esteemed 
by the people of a country impeitinent and unjust; and your true 
way to succeed is to treat as freely as possible its imaginary 
peculiarities.” 

;Miss Brackett had nothing to answer to this observation, the 
“Hebdomad” having, among its other profundities, never seen 
proper to touch on the subject. She went on praising the “ Letters,” 
however, not one of whleii had she read; nor would she read; for 
this young lady had contrived to gain a high reputation in her own 
coterie for taste and knowledge in books, by merely skimming the 
strictures of those who do not even skim the works they pretend to 
analyze. 

Eve had never before been in so close contact with so much flip- 
pant ignorance, and she could not but wonder at seeing a man like 
her kinsman overlooked, in order that a man like Mr. Dodge should 
be preferred. All this gave John Effingham himself no concern, but 
retiring a little from the crowd, he entered into a short conversation 
with the young baronet. 

“ 1 should like to know your real opinions of this set,” he said; 
“ not that 1 plead guilty to the childish sensibility that is so com- 
mon in all provincial circles to the judgments of strangers, but with 
a view to aid you in forming a just estimate of the real state of the 
country.” 

“ As I know the precise connection between you and our host, 
there can be no objection to giving a perfectly frank reply. The 
women strike me as being singularly delicate and pretty; well 
dressed, too, 1 might add; but while there is a great air of decency, 
there is very little high finish; and what strikes me as being quite 
odd, under "such circumstances, scarcely any downright vulgarity 
or coarseness.” 

“ A Daniel come to judgment! One who had passed a life here 
would not have come so near the truth, simply because he would 
not have observed peculiarities that require the means of comparison 
to be detected. You are a little too indulgent in saying there is no 
downright vulgarity; for some there is; though surprisingly little 
for the circumstances. But of the coarseness that ■would be so 
prominent elsewhere, there is hardly any. True, so great is the 
equality in all things in this country, so direct the tendency to this 
respectable mediocrity, that what yuu now see here to-night may be 


38 


HOME AS FOUND. 


seen in almost eveiy village in tlie land, with a few immaterial ex- 
ceptions in the way of furniture and othei city appliances, and not 
much even in these.” 

“ Certainly, as a mediocrity this is respectable, though a fastidi- 
ous taste might see a multitude of faults,” 

” 1 should not say that the taste would be merely fastidious, for 
much is wanting that would add to the grace and beauty of society, 
while much that is wanting would be missed only by the over- 
sophisticated. Those young men who are sniggering over some bad 
joke in the corner for instance, are positively vulgar, as is that 
young lady who is indulging in practical coquetry; but, on the 
whole, there is little of this; and even oui hostess, a silly woman, 
devoured with the desire of being what neither her social position, 
education, habits, nor notions fit her to be, is less obtrusive, bustling, 
and offensive, than a similar person elsewhere.” 

“lam quite of your way of thinking, and intended to ask you to 
account for it.” 

” The Americans are an imitative people, of necessity, and they 
are apt at this part of imitation in particular. Then they are less 
artificial in all their practices than older and more sophisticated 
nations; and this company has got that essential part of good breed- 
ing, simplicity, as it were perforce. A step higher in the social 
scale you will see less of it, for greater daring and bad models lead 
to blunders in matters that require to be exceedingly well done, if 
done at all. The faults here would be more apparent by an ap- 
proach near enough to get into the tone of mind, the forms of speech, 
and the attempts at wit,” 

” Which 1 think we shall escape to-night, as 1 see the ladies are 
already making their apologies and taking leave. We must defer 
this investigation to another lime.” 

” It may be indefinitely postponed, as it would ‘scarcely reward 
the trouble of an inquiry.” 

The gentlemen now approached Mrs. Jarvis, paid their parting 
compliments, hunted up Captain Truck, whom they tore by vio- 
lence from the good-natured hospitality of the master of the house, 
and then saw the ladies into their carriage. As they drove oft, the 
worthy mariner protested that Mr. Jarvis was one of the honestest 
men he had ever met, and announced that he intended giving hiui a 
dinner or board the ” Montauk ” the very next day. 

The dwelling of Mrs. Hawker was in Hudson Square, or in a 
qDortion ot the city that the lovers of the grandiose are endeavoring 
to call St. John’s Park; for it is rather an amusing peculiarity 
among a certain portion of the emigrants who have flocked into the 
Middle States within the last thirty years that they are not satisfied 
with permitting any family or thing to possess the name it original!}’ 
enjoyed, it there exists the least opportunity to change it. There 
was but a carriage or two before the door, though the strong lights 
in the house showed that the company had collected. 

‘‘ Mrs. Hawker is the widow and the daughtev of men of long-es- 
tablished New York families; she is childless, affluent, and uni- 
versally respected where known for her breeding, benevolence, good 
sense, and heart,” said John Effingham, while the party was driv- 
ing from one house to the other. ” Were you to go into most of the 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


39 


sets of this town and mention Mrs. Hawker’s name, not one person 
in ten would know that tliere is such a being in their vicinity; the 
pUe mUe of a migratory population keeping persons of her character 
and condition of life quite out of view. The very persons who will 
prattle by the hour of the establishments of Mrs. Peleg Pond, and 
Mrs. Jonah Twist, and Mrs. Abiram Wattles, people who first ap- 
peared on this island five or six years since, and who, having ac- 
cumulated what to them are relatively large fortunes, have launched 
out into vulgar and uninstructed finery, would look with surprise at 
hearing Mrs. Hawker mentioned as one having any claims to social 
distinction. Her historicel names are overshadowed in their minds 
by the parochial glories of certain local prodigies in the townships 
whence they emigrated; her manners would puzzle the comprehen- 
sion of people whose imitation has not gone beyond the surface; and 
her polished and simple mind would find little sympathy among a 
class who seldom rise above a commonplace sentiment without get- 
ting upon stilts.” 

“Mrs. Hawker, then, is a lady,” obseiwed Sir George Temple- 
more. 

” Mrs. Hawker is a lady in every sense of the word; by position, 
education, manners, association, mind, fortune, and birth. 1 do not 
know that we ever had more of her class than exist to-day, but cer- 
tainly we once had them more prominent in society.” 

*■ I suppose, sir,” said Captain Truck, ‘‘ that this Mrs. Hawker is 
of what is called the old school?” 

” Of a very ancient school, and one that is likely to continue, 
though it may not be generally attended.” 

“lam afraid, Mr. John Eflingham, that 1 shall be like a fish out 
of water in such a house.* 1 can get along very well with your Mrs. 
Jarvis, and with the dear young lady in the other carriage; but the 
sort of a woman you have described will be apt to jam a plain mari- 
ner like myself. What in nature should 1 do, now, it she should 
ask me to dance a minuet?” 

“ Dance it agreeably lo the lawsof nature,” returned John Effing- 
ham, as the carriage stopped. 

A respectable, quiet, and an aged black admitted the party, 
though even he did not announce the visitors, while he held the door 
of the drawing-room open for them with respectful attention. Mrs. 
Hawker arose and advanced to meot Eve and her companions, and 
though she kissed the cousins affectionately, her reception of Made- 
moiselle Viefville was so simply polite as to convince the latter she 
was valued on account of her services. John Effingham, who was 
ten or fifteen years the junior of the old lady, gallantly kissed her 
hand, when he presented his two male companions. After paying 
proper attention to the greatest stranger, Mrs. Hawker turned to 
Captain Truck and said — 

“ This, then, is the gentleman to whose skill and courage you all 
owe so much— we all owe so much, 1 might better have said— the 
commander of the ‘ MontauR ’?” • 

“ 1 have the honor of commanding that vessel, ma’am,” returned 
Captain Truck, -who was singularly awed by the dignified simplicity 
of his hostess, although her quiet, natural, and yet finished manner, 
vviiich extended even to the intonation of the voice and the smallest 


40 


HOME AS FOUXD. 


movement, were as unlike vrhat he had expected as possible, “ and 
with such passengers as she had last voyage, I can only say it is a 
pity that she is not better off for one to take care of her.” 

” Your passengers give a different account of the matter; but in 
order that 1 may judge impartially, do me the favor to take this 
chair, and let me learn a few of the particulars from yourself.” 

Observing that Sir George Templemore had followed Eve to the 
other side of the room, Mrs. Hawker now resumed her seat, and 
without neglecting any to attend to one in particular, or attending 
to one in an}'^ way to make him feel oppressed, she contrived in a 
few minutes to make the captain forget all about the minuet, and to 
feel much more at his ease than would have been the case with Mrs. 
Jarvis in a month’s intercourse. 

In the meantime, Eve had crossed the room to join a lady whose 
smile invited her to her side. This was a young, slightly framed 
female, of a pleasing countenance, but who would not have been 
particularly distinguished in such a place for personal charms. Still 
her smile was sweet, her eyes were soft, and the expression of her 
face was what might almost be called illuminated. As Sir George 
Templemore followed her. Eve mentioned his name to her acquaint- 
ance, whom she addressed as Mrs. Bloomfield. 

” You are bent on perpetrating further ga5’^ety to-night,” said the 
latter, glancing at the ball-dresses of the two cousins. ” Are you in 
the colors of the Houston faction, or in those of the Peabody?” 

” Not in pea-green, certainly,” returned Eve, laughing, “ as you 
may see; but in simple white.” 

” You intend then to be ‘ led a measure ’ at Mrs. Houston’s. It 
were more suitable than among the other faction.” 

” Is fashion, then, faction in New York?” inquired Sir George. 

” Fractions would be a better word, perhaps; but we have parties 
in almost everything in America — in politics, religion, temperance, 
speculations, and taste. Why not in fashion?” 

” 1 fear we are not quite independent enough to form parties on 
such a subject,” said Eve. 

” Perfectly well said. Miss Effingham. One must think a little 
originally, let it be ever so falsely, in order to get up a fashion. I 
fear we shall have to admit our insignificance on this point. You 
are a late arrival. Sir George Templemore?” 

” As lately as the commencement of this month. 1 had the honor 
of being a fellow-passenger with Mr. Effingham and his family.” 

” In wliich voyage you suffered shipwreck, captivity, and famine, 
if half we hear be true.” 

” Keport has a little magnified our risks. We encountered some 
serious dangers, but nothing amounting to the sufferings you have 
mentioned.” 

“ Being a married woman, and having reached the crisis in which 
deception is not practiced, 1 expect to hear truth again,” said Mrs. 
Bloomfield, smiling. ”1 trust, however, you underwent enough to 
qualify you all for heroes and heroines, and shall content myself 
with knowing that you are here, safe and happy, if,” she added, ”” 
looking inquiringly at Eve, ” one who has been educated abroad can 
be happy at home.” 


HOME AS EOUETD. 41 

“ One educated abroad may be Jiappy at home, though possibly 
not in the modes most practiced by the world,” said Eve, firmly. 

” 'Without an opera, without a court, almost without society !” 

“An opera would be desirable, 1 confess. Of courts, 1 know 
nothing, unmarried females being ciphers in Europe, and 1 hope bet- 
ter things than to think 1 shall be without society.” • 

” Unmarried females are considered ciphers too, here, provided 
there be enough of them with a good respectable digit at their head. 
1 assure you no one quarrels with the ciphers under such circum- 
stances. 1 think, Sir George Templemore, a town like this must be 
something of a paradox to you.” 

” Might 1 venture to inquire the reason for this opinion?” 

” Merely because it is neither one thing nor another. Not a capi- 
tal, nor yet merely a provincial place, with something more than 
commerce in its bosom, and yet with that something hidden under a 
bushel. A good deal more than Liverpool, and a good deal less 
than London. Better even than Edinburgh in many respects, and 
w'orse than Wapping in others.” 

” You have been abroad, Mrs. Bloomfield?” 

” Not a foot out of my own country; scarcely a foot out of my 
own State. 1 have been at Late George, the Falls, and the Mount- 
ain House, and as one does not travel in a balloon, 1 saw some of 
the intermediate places. As for all else, 1 am obliged to go by re- 
port.” 

‘‘It is a pity Mrs. Bloomfield was not with us this evening at 
Mrs. Jarvis’s,” said Eve, laughing. ” She might then have in- 
creased her knowledge by listening to a few cantos from the epic of 
Mr. Dodge.” 

‘‘ 1 have glanced at some of that author’s wisdom, ’’returned Mrs. 
Blooomfield, ‘‘ but 1 soon found it was learning backward. There 
is a never-failing rule by wlijch it is easy to arrive at a traveler’^ 
w^orth, in a negative sense, at least,” 

‘‘ That is a rule which may be worth knowing,” said the baronet, 
‘‘ as it would save much useless wear of the eyes.” 

” When one betrays a profound ignorance of his own country, it 
is a fair presumption that he can not be very acute in his observation 
of strangers. Mr. Dodge is one of these writers, and a single letter 
fully satisfied my curiosity. 1 fear. Miss Effingham, very inferior 
wares in the way of manners have been lately imported in large 
quantities into this country, as having the Tower mark on them.” 

Eve laughed, but declared that Sir George Templemore was better 
qualified than herself to answer such a question. 

” We are said to be a people of facts, rather than a people of theo- 
ries,” continued Mrs. Bloomfield, without attending to the reference 
of the young lady, ” and any coin that offers, passes until another 
that is better arrives. It is a singular but a very general mistake, I 
believe, of the people of this country, in supposing that they can 
exist under the present regime^ when others would fail, because their 
opinions keep even pace with, or precede the actual condition of so- 
ciety ; whereas those who have thought and observed most on such 
subjects agree in thinking the very reverse of the case.” 

‘‘ This would be a curious condition for a government so purely 


42 


HOME AS rOUHL). 


conventional,” observed Sir George, with interest, ” and it certainly 
is entirely opposed to the state of things all over Europe.” 

” It is so, and yet there is no great mystery in it after all. Acci- 
dent has liberated us from trammels that still fetter you. ^ We are 
like a vehicle on the top of a hill, which the moment it is pushed 
beyond the point of resistance rolls down of itself, without the aid 
of horses. One may follow with the team and hook on when it gets 
to the bottom, but there is no such thing as keeping company with 
it until it arrives there.” 

You will allow, then, that there is a bottom?” 

‘‘There is a bottom to everything — to good and bad; happiness 
and misery; hope, fear, faith, and charity; even to a woman’s mind, 
which 1 have soemtimes fancied the most bottomless thing in nat- 
ure. There may, therefore, well be a bottom even to the institu- 
tions of America.” 

Sir George listened with the interest with which an Englishman 
of his class always endeavors to catch a concession that he fancies is 
about to favor his own political predilections, and he felt encour- 
aged to push the subject further. 

‘‘ And you thinK that ihe political machine is rolling downward 
toward this bottom?” he said, with an interest in the answer that, 
living in the quiet and forgetfulness of his own home, he would 
have laughed at himself for entertaining. But our sensibilities be- 
come quickened by collision, and opposition is known even to create 
love. 

Mrs. Bloomfield was quick-witted, intelligent, cultivated and 
shrewd. She saw the motive at a glance, and, notwithstanding she 
saw and felt all its abuses, strongly attached to the governing 
principle of her country’s social organization, as is almost univers- 
ally the case with the strongest minds and most generous hearts of 
the nation, she was not disposed to let a stranger carry away a false 
impression of her sentiments on such a point. 

‘‘ Did you ever study logic. Sir George Templemore?” she asked, 
archly. 

” A little, though not enough 1 fear to influence my mode of rea- 
soning, or even to leave me familiar with the terms.” 

”Oh! 1 am not about to assail you with sequiturs and no)i- 
seqtiituTS, dialectics and all the mysteries of Denk-Lehre, but simply 
to remind you Ihere is such a thing as the bottom of a subject. 
vVhen 1 tell you we are flying toward the bottom of our institu- 
tions, it is in the intellectual sense, and not, as you have erroneously 
imagined, in an unintellectual sense. I mean that we are getting to 
understand them, which 1 tear we did not absolutely do at the com- 
mencement of the ‘ experiment.’ ” 

“But I think you will admit, that as the civilization of the 
country advances, some material changes must occur; your people 
can not always remain stationary; they must either go backward or 
forward.” 

” Up or down, it you will allow me to correct your phraseology. 
The civilization of the country, in one sense at least, is retrogressive, 
and the people, as they can not ‘ go up,’ betray a disposition to go 
“ down.’ ” 


HOME AS FOUND. * 43 

“You deal in enigmas, and I am afraid to think I understand 
you.” 

“1 mean, merely, that gallows are fast disappearing, and that 
the \>eo^\Q—l6 'pe^qyle, you will understand — begin to accept money. 
In both particulars, 1 think there is a sensible change for the worse, 
within my own recollection.” 

Mrs. Bloomfield then changed her manner, and from using that 
light-hearted gayety with which she often rendered her conversation 
piqiiante, and even occasionally brilliant, she became more grave 
and explicit. The subject soon turned to that of punishments, and 
few men could have reasoned more sensibly, justly, or forcibly, on 
such a subject, than this slight and fragile-looking young woman. 
Without tire least pedantry, with a beauty of language that the 
other sex seldom attains, and with a delicacy of discrimination, and 
a sentiment that were strictly feminine, she rendered a theme inter- 
esting, that, however important in itself, is forbidding, veiling all 
its odious and revolting features in the refinement and finesse of her 
own polished mind. 

Eve could have listened all night, and at every syllable that fell 
f rdfti the lips of her friend, she felt a glow of triumph ; for she W'as 
proud of letting an intelligent foreigner see that, America did con- 
tain women worthy to be ranked with the best of other countries — 
a circusmtance that they who merely frequented what is called the 
world, she thought might be reasonably justified in distrusting. In 
one respect, she eve a fancied Mrs. Bloomfield’s knowledge and 
cleverness superior to those which she had so often admired* in her 
own sex abroad. It was untrammeled, equally by the prejudices 
incident to a fictitious condition of society, or by their reaction; two 
circumstances that often obscured the sense and candor of those to 
whom she had so often listened with pleasure in other countries. 
The singularly feminine tone, too, of all that Mrs. Bloomfield said 
or thought, while it lacked nothing in strength, added to the charm 
of her conversation, and increased the pleasure of those that listened. 

“ Is the circle large to which Mrs. Hawker and her friends be- 
long?” asked Sir George, as he assisted Eve* and Grace to cloak 
when they had taken leave. “ A town which can boast of halt a 
dozen such houses need not accuse itself of wanting society.” 

“Ah! there is but one Mrs. Hawker in Kew York,” answered 
Grace, “ and not many Mis. Bloomfields in the world. It would be 
too much to say we have even halt a dozen such houses.” 

“Have you not been struck with the admirable tone of this 
drawing-room?” half-whispered Eve. “It may want a little of 
that lofty ease that one sees amons: the better portion of the old 
Princesses et Duchesses, which is a relic of a school that it is to be 
feared is going out; but in its place there is a winning nature, with 
as much dignity as is necessary, and a truth that gives us confidence 
in the sincerity of those around us.” 

“ Upon my word, I think Mrs. Hawker quite fit for a duchess.” 

“You mean a DucJiesse,’' said Eve, “ and yet she is without the 
manner that we understand by such a word. Mrs. Hawker is a 
lady, and there can be no higher term.” 

“ She is a delightful old woman,” cried John Effingham, “ and 


44: 


HOME AS FOUJ^D. 


it twenty years j’^ounger and disposed to change her condition, 1 
should really be afraid to enter the house.” 

“My dear sir,” put in the captain, “ 1 will make her Mrs. Truck 
to-morrow, and say nothing of years, if she could be content to 
lake up with such an ofler. Why, sir, she is no woman, but a saint 
in petticoats! 1 felt the whole time as if talking to my own mother, 
and as for ships, she knows moie about them than 1 do!” 

The whole party laughed at the strength of the captain’s admira- 
tion, and getting into carriages proceeded to the last of the houses 
they intended visiting that night. 


CHAPTER V. 

So turns she every man the wrong side out; 

And never gives to truth and virtue, that 

Which simpleness and merit purchaseth. 

Much Ado About Nothing. 

Mrs. Houston was what is termed a fashionable woman in New 
York. She, too, was of a family of local note, though of one much 
less elevated in the olden time than that of Mrs. Hawker. Still her 
claims weie admitted by the most fastidious on such points, for a 
lew do remain who think descent indispensable to gentility; and as 
her means were ample and her tastes perhaps superior to those of 
most around her, she kept what was thought a house of better tone 
than common even in the highest circle. Eve had but a slight ac- 
quaintance with her; but in Grace’s eyes, Mrs. Houston’s was the 
place of all others that she thought might make a favorable impres- 
sion on her cousin. Her wish that this should prove to be the case 
was so strong, that, as they drove toward the door, she could not 
forbear from making an attempt to prepare Eve for what she was 
to meet. 

“ Although Mrs. Houston has a very large house for New York, 
and lives in a uniform style, you are not to expect antechambers 
and vast suites of rooms, Eve,” said Grace; “such as you have 
been accustomed to see abroad.” 

“ It is not necessary, my dear cousin, to enter a house of four or 
five windows in front, to see it is not a house of twenty or thirty. 
1 should be very unreasonable to expect an Italian palazzo or a 
Parisian hotel in this good town.” 

“We are not old enough for that yet. Eve; a hundred years 
hence. Mademoiselle Viefville, such things may exist here.” 

“ Bien s'Cir. G’est iiatureV* 

“ A hundred years hence, as the world tends, Grace, they are not 
likely to exist anywhere, except as taverns, or hospitals, or manu- 
factories. But what have we to do, coz, with a century ahead of 
us? Young as we both are, we can not hope to live that time.” 

Grace would have been puzzled to account satisfactorily to herself 
for the strong desire she felt that neither of her companions should 
expect to see such a house as their senses so plainly told them did 
not exist in the place; but her foot moved in the bottom of the 
carriage, for she was not half satisfied with her cousin’s answer. 

“ All 1 mean, Et^e,” she said, after a pause, “ is, that oue ought 
not to expect, in a town as new as this, the improvements that one 
sees in an older state of society.” 


HOME AS FOUND. 45 

“ And have Mademoiselle Viefville or 1 ever been so weak as to 
suppose that New York is Paris, or Rome, or Vienna?” 

Grace was still less satisfied, for, unknown to herself, she had 
hoped that Mrs. Houston’s hall might be quite equal to a ball in 
either of those ancient capitals; and she was now vexed that her 
cousin considered it so much a matter of course that it should not 
be. But there was no time for explanations, as the carriage now 
stopped. 

The noise, confusion, calling out, swearing, and rude clamor be- 
fore the house of Mrs. Houston, said little for the out-door part of 
the arrangements. Coachmen are nowhere a paiticulaily silent and 
civil class; but the uncouth European peasants who have been 
preferred to the honors of the whip in New York, to the usual feel- 
ings of competition and contention, added that particular feature of 
humility which is known to distinguish ” the beggar on horseback.” 
The imposing equipages of our party, however, had that eflect on 
most of these rude brawlers, which a display of wealth is known to 
produce on the vulgar-minded; and the ladies got into the house 
through a lane of coachmen, by yielding a littfe to a cliemux de 
fnse of whips, without any serious calamity. 

” One hardly knows which is the most terrific,” said Eve, invol- 
untarily, as soon as the door closed on them — ” the noise within or 
the noise without!” 

This was spoken rapidly, and in French, to Mademoiselle Vief- 
ville, but Grace heard and understood it, and for the first time in 
her life she perceived that Mrs. Houston’s company was not com- 
posed of nightingales. The surprise is, that the discovery should 
have come so late. 

” I am delighted at having got into this house,” said Sir George, 
who, having thrown his cloak to his own servant, stood with the 
two other gentlemen waiting the descent of the ladies from the upper 
room, where the bad arrangements of the house compelled them to 
uncloak and to put aside their shawls, “as I am told it is the best 
house in town to see the other sex.” 

‘‘To hear them, would be nearer the truth, perhaps,” returned 
John Effingham. As for pretty women, one can hardly go amiss 
in New York; and your ears now tell you that they do not come 
into the world to be seen only.” 

The baronet smiled, but he was too well-bred to contradict or to 
assent. Mademoiselle Viefville, unconscious that she^was violating 
the proprieties, walked into the rooms by herself, as soon as she 
descended, followed by Eve, but Grace shrunk to the side of John 
Effingham, whose arm she took as a step necessary even to decorum. 

Mrs. Houston received her guests with ease and dignity. She 
was one of those females that the American world calls gay; in 
other words, she opened her own house to a very promiscuous 
society, ten or a dozen times in a winter, and accepted the greater 
part of the invitations she got to other people’s. Still, in most 
other countries, as a fashionable woman, she would have been 
esteemed a model of devotion to the duties of a wife and a mother, 
for she paid a personal attention to her household, and had actually 
taught all -^er children the Lord’s prayer, the creed, and the ten 
commandments. She attended church twice every Sunday, and 


46 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


only stayed at home from the evenini; lectures that the domestics 
might have the opportunity of going (which, by the way, they never 
did) in her stead. Feminine, well-mannered, rich, pretty, of a very 
positive social condition, and naturally kind-hearted and disposed 
to sociability, Mrs. Houston, supported by an indulgent husband, 
who so much loved to see people with the appearance of happiness, 
that he was not particular as to the means, hatl found no difficulty 
in rising to the pinnacle of fashion, and of having her name in the 
mouths of all those who find it necessary to talk of somebodies, in 
order that they may seem to be somebodies themselves. All this 
contributed to Mrs. Houston’s happiness, or she fancied it did ; and 
as every passion is known to increase by indulgence, she had in- 
sensibly gone on in her much-envied career, until, as has just been 
said, she reached the summit. 

“ These rooms are very crowded,” said Sir George, glancing his 
eyes around two very pretty little narrow drawing-rooms thatVere 
beautifully, not to say richly furnished; “one wmnders that the 
same contracted style of building should be so very general in a 
town that increases as rapidly as this, and where fashion has no 
fixed abode, and land is so abundant.” 

“ Mrs. Bloomfield will tell you,” said Eve, “ that these houses 
are types of the social state of the country, in which no one is per- 
mitted to occupy more than his share of ground.” 

“ But there are reasonably large dwellings in the place. Mrs. 
Hawker has a good house, and 5 mur father’s, for instance, would be 
thought so. too, in London even; and yet 1 fancy you will agree 
with me in thinking that a good room is almost unknown in New 
York.” 

“1 do agree with you in this particular, certainly; for to meet 
with a good room one must go into the houses built thirt}^ years 
ago. We have inherited these snuggeries, however, England not 
having much to boast of in the way of houses.” 

“ In the way of town residences 1 agree with you entirely, as a 
whole, though we have some capital exceptions. Still 1 do not 
think we are quite as compact as this; do you not fancy the noise 
increased in consequence of its being so confined?” 

Eve laughed, and shook her head quite positively. 

“ What would it be if fairly let out?” she said. “ But we will 
not waste the precious moments, but turn our eyes about us in quest 
of the belles. Grace, you who are so much at home, must be our 
cicerone, and tell us which are the idols we are to worship.” 

DUes 77101 'premUrement; que mut dwe unehelle d New Yoik?’' 
demanded Mademoiselle Yiefville. '' A'ppareimnent, tout le inonde 
est jolV’ 

“A belle, mademoiselle,” returned John Effingham, “is not 
necessarily beautiful, the qualifications for the character being 
various and a little contradictory. One may be a belle by means of 
money, a tongue, an eye, a foot,'' teeth, a laugh, or any other separate 
feature or grace; though no woman was ever yet a belle, I believe, 
by. means of the head, considered collectively. But why deal in 
despription when the thing itself confronts us? The young lady 
standing directly before us is a belle of the most approved stamp and 
silvery tone. Is it not Miss Ring, Grace?” 


HOME AS FOUisD. 


47 

The answer was in the affirmative, and the eyes of the whole 
party turned toward the subject of this remark. The young lady in 
question was about twenty, rather tall for an American woman, 
not conspicuously handsome, but like most around her of delicate 
features and frame, and with such a physique as, under proper 
training, would have rendered her the beau-ideal of feminine deli- 
cacy and gentleness. She had natuial spirit, likewise, as appeared 
in her clear blue. eye, and, moreover, she had the spirit to be a belle. 

Around this young creature were clustered no less than five young 
men, dressed in the height of the fashion, all of whom seemed to be 
entranced with the words that fell from her lips, and eacli of whom 
appeared anxious to say something clever in return. They all 
laughed, the lady most, and sometimes all spoke at once. Not- 
withstanding these outbreakings, Miss Ring did most of the talking, 
and once or twice as a young man would gape after a most exhilar- 
ating show of merriment, apd discover an inclination to retreat, she 
managed to recall him to his allegiance by some remark particularly 
pertinent to himself or his feelings. 

“ Qui est cette dame?'’ asked Mademoiselle Viefville, very much 
as one would put a similar question on seeing a man enter a church 
during service with his hat on. 

“ JElle est demoiselle," returned Eve. 

“ Quelle liorreur !" 

“ Nay, nay, mademoiselle, 1 shall not allow you to set up France 
as immaculate on this point, neither,” said John Effingham, look- 
ing at the last speaker with an affected frown; “ a young lady may 
have a tongue, and she may even speak to a young gentleman, and 
not be guilty of felony; although 1 will admit that five tongues are 
unnecessary, and that five listeners are more than sufficient for the 
wisdom of twenty in petticoats.” 

” C'est uneliorreur !" 

” 1 dare say Miss Ring wmuld think it a greater horror to be 
obliged to pass an evening in a row of girls, unspoken to, except to 
be asked to dance, and admired only in the distance. I3ut let us 
take seats on that sofa, and then we may go beyond the pantomime 
and become partakers in the sentiment of the scene.” 

Grace and Eve were now led off to dance, and the others did as 
John Eflingham had suggested. In the eyes of the belle and her 
admirers they who had passed thirty were of no account, and her 
listeners succeeded in establishing themselves quietly within ear- 
shot — this was almost at'^ueling distance, too — without at all inter- 
rupting the regular action of the piece. We extract a little of the 
dialogue b}'’ way of giving a more dramatic representation of the 
scene. 

” Do you think the youngest JVliss Danvers beautiful?” asked the 
belle, while her eye wandered in quest of a sixth gentleman to 
” entertain,” as the phrase is. ” In my opinion she is absolutely 
the prettiest female in Mrs. Houston’s rooms this night.” 

The young men, one and all, protested against this judgment, 
and with perfect truth, for Miss Ring was too original to point out 
charms that every one could see. 

” They say it will not be a match between her and Mr. Egbert, 


48 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


after everybody has supposed it settled so long. What is your 
opinion, Mr. Edson?” 

This timely question prevented JMr. Edson ’s retreat, for he had 
actually got so far in this important evolution as to have gaped and 
turned his back. Recalled, as it were by the sound of the bugle, 
Mr. Edson was compelled to say something, a sore affliction to him 
always. 

“Oil! I’m quite of your way of thinking; they, have certainly 
courted too long to think of marrying.” 

“ 1 detest long courtships; they must be perfect antidotes to love 
are they not, Mr. Moreland?” 

A truant glance of Mr. Moreland's eye was rebuked by this ap- 
peal, and instead of looking tor a place of refuge he now merely 
looked sheepish. He, however, entirely agreed with the young 
lady, as the surer way of getting out of the difficulty. 

“ Pray, Mr. Summerfield, how do j^ou like the last Hajji — Miss 
Eve Effingham? To my notion, she is prettyish, though by no means 
as well as her cousin. Miss Van Cortlandt, who is really rather good- 
lookin.g.” 

As Eve and Grace were the two most truly lovely young women 
in the rooms, this opinion, as well as the loud tone in which it was 
given, startled Mademoiselle Viefville quite as much as the subjects 
that the belle had selected for discussion. She would have moved, 
as listening to a conversation that was not meant for their ears; but 
John Effingham quietly assured her that Miss Ring seldom spoke in 
company without intending as many persons as possible to hear her. 

“ Miss Elfingliam is very plainly dressed lor an only daughter,” 
continued the young lady, “ though that lace of her cousin’s is real 
point! I’ll engage it cost every cent of ten dollars a yard ! They 
are both engaged to be married, I hear.” 

“ CielF' exclaimed Mademoiselle Viefville. 

“Oh! that is nothing,” observed John Effingham, coolly. “ Wait 
a moment, and you’ll hear that they have been privately married 
these six months, if, indeed, you hear no more.” 

“ Of course this is but an idle tale?” said Sir George Templemore, 
with a concern which, in spite of his good breeding, compelled him 
to put a question that, under other circumstances, would scarcely 
have been permissible. 

“ As true as the gospel. But listen to the bell, it is ringing for 
the good of the whole parish,” 

“ The affair between Miss Effingham and Mr. Morpeth, who knew 
her abroad, 1 understand is entirely broken off; some say the father 
objected to Mr. Morpeth’s want of fortune; others that the lad)'- was 
fickle, while some accuse the gentleman of the same vice. Don’t 
you think it shocking to jilt, in either sex, Mr. Mosely?” 

The retiring Mr. Mosely was drawn again within the ciicle, and 
was obliged to confess that he thought it was very shocking in 
either sex to jilt. 

“ If 1 were a man,” continued the belle, “ 1 would never think 
of a young woman who had once jilted a lover. To my mind it 
bespeaks a bad heart, and a woman with a bad heart can not make 
a very amiable wife.’' 

' “What an exceedingly clever creature she is,” whispered Mr. 


HOME AS FOUND. 49 * 

Mosely to Mr. Moreland, and he now made up his mind to remain 
and 1)3 “ entertained ” some time longer. 

“ 1 think poor Mr. Morpeth e:really to he pitied; for no man 
would be so silly as to be attentive seriously to a lady without en- 
couragement. Encouragement is the ne plus ultra of courtship; are 
you not of my opinion, Mr. Walworth?” 

Mr. Walworth was number five ot the entertainees, and he did 
understand Latin, of which the .young lady, though fond of using 
scraps, knew literally nothing. He smiled an assent, therefore, and 
the felicitated herself in having “ entertained ” him effectually; 
nor was she mistaken. 

” Indeed, they say Miss Effingham had several affairs of the heart 
while in Europe, but it seems she was untortunate in them all.” 

” Mais, ceci esi irop fort ! Je nepeux plus ecouter.'” 

” My dear mademoiselle, compose yourself. The crisis is not yet 
arrived, by any means.” 

” 1 understand she still corresponds with a German baron and an 
Italian marquis, tnough both engagements are absolutely broken off. 
Some people say she walks into company alone, unsupported by any 
gentlernan, by way ot announcing a firm determination to remain 
single tor life.” 

A common exclamation trom the young men proclaimed their 
disapprobation; and that night three ot them actually repeated the 
thing, as a well-established truth, and two of the three, failing ot 
something better to talk about, also announced that Eve was actu- 
ally engaged to be married. 

‘‘ There is something excessively indelicate in a young lady's 
moving about a room without having a gentleman’s arm to lean on ! 

1 always feel as it such a person was out of her place, and ought to 
be in the kitchen. ” 

” But, Miss Ring, what well-bred person does it?” sputtered Mr. 
Moreland. “ No one ever heard of such a thing in good society. 

’Tis quite shocking! Altogether unprecedented.” 

” It strikes me as being excessively coarse!” 

‘‘Oh! manifestly; quite rustic!” exclaimefl Mr. Edson. 

‘‘ What can possibly be more vulgar!” added Mr. Walworth. 

“ 1 never heard of such a thing among the right sort!” said Mr. 
Mosely. 

‘‘ A young lady who can be so brazen as to come into a room 
without a gentleman’s arm to lean on, is, in my judgment at least, 
but indifferently educated, Hajji or no Hajji. Mr. Edson, have you 
ever felt the tender passion? 1 know^ you have been desperately in 
love once, at least; do describe to me some of the symptoms, in 
order that 1 may know w^hen 1 am seriously attacked myself by the 
disease.” 

"'Mats, cecfest ridicule! V enfant c'est sauree du Cliarenton de 
!New York.” 

” From the nursery rather, mademoiselle; you perceive she does 
not yet know how to walk alone.” 

Mr. Edson now protested that he was too stupid to feel a passion 
as intellectual as love, and that he was afraid he was destined by 
nature to remain as insensible as a block. 

“ One never knows, Mr. Edson,” said the young lady, encourag-^ 


50 


irO^klE AS ForxD. 


ingly. “ Several of my acquaintances, who tliouglit themselves quite 
safe" have been stized suddenly, and, though none have actually 
died, more than one has been roughly treated, 1 assure you.” 

Here the young men, one and all, protested that she was exces- 
sively clever. Then succeeded a pause, for Miss Ring wars inviting, 
with her eyes, number six to join the circle, her ambition being 
dissatisfied with five entertainees, as she saw that Miss Trumpet, a 
rival belle, had managed to get exactly that number also, in the other 
room. All the gentlemen availed themselves of the cessation in wit 
to gape, and Mr. Edson took the occasion to remark to Mr. Sum- 
meifield that he understood ” lots had been sold in Seven Hundredth 
Street that morning as high as two hundred dollars. a lot.” 

The quadrille now endtd, and Eve returned toward her friends. 
As she approached, the whole party compared her quiet, simple, 
feminine, and yet dignified air, with the restless, beau-catching, and 
worldly look of the belle, and wondered by what law of nature, or 
of fashion, the one could possibly become the subject of the other’s 
comments. Eve never appeared better than on that evening. Her 
dress had all the accuracy and finish of a Parisian toilet, being 
equally removed from exaggeration and neglect; and it was worn 
with the ease of one accustomed to be elegantly attired, and yet never 
decked with finery. Her step, even, was that of a lady, having neither 
the mincing tread of a Paris grisette, a manner that sometimes 
ascends even to the hourgeoise, the march of a cockneyess, nor the 
tiptoe swing of a belle ; but it was the natural though regulated step 
of a trained and delicate woman. M'alk alone she could certainly, 
and always did, except on those occasions of ceremony that de- 
manded a pfir trier. Her countenance, across which an unworthy 
thought had ne\er left a trace, was an index, too, to the purity, high 
principles, and womanly self -respect that controlled all her acts, and, 
in these particulars, was the very reverse of the feverish, half-hoy- 
denish, half-affected expression of that of Miss Ring. 

” They may say what they please,” muttered Captain Truck, who 
bad been a silent but wondering listener of all that passed; ” she is 
■worth as many of them as could be stowed in the ‘ Montauk’s ’ 
lower hold.” 

Miss Ring, perceiving Eve approach, was desirous of saying some- 
thing to her, for there was an eclat about a Hajji, after all, that ren- 
dered an acquaintance or even an intimacy desirable, and she smiled 
and courtesied. Eve returned the salutation, but as she did not care 
to approach a group of six, of which no less than five were men, 
she continued to move toward her own party. This reserve com- 
pelled Miss Ring to advance a step or two, when Eve was obliged to 
stop. Courtesying to her partner, she thanked him for his atten- 
tion, relinquished his arm, and turned to meet the lady. At the 
same instant the five ” entertainees ” escaped in a body, equally re- 
joiced at their release, and proud of their captivity. 

” 1 have been dying to come and speak to you, Miss Effingham,” 
commenced Miss Ring, ‘‘ but these five giants ” (she emphasized the 
W’ord we have put in italics) “ so beset me, that escape was quite 
impossible. There ought to be a law that but one gentleman should 
speak to a lady at a time.” 

” 1 thought there was such a law already,” said Eve, quietly. 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


51 

“You mean in good breeding; but no one thinks of those anti- 
quated Jaws nowadays. Are you beginning to be reconciled a lit- 
tle to your own country?” 

“ It is not easy to effect a reconciliation where there has been no 
misunderstanding. 1 hope 1 have never quarreled with my country, 
or my country with me. ” 

“Oh! it is not exactly that 1 mean. Can not one need a reconcili- 
ation without a quarrel? What do you say to this, Mi. Edson?” 

Miss Ring, having detected some symptoms of desertion in the 
eentleman addressed, had thrown in this question by way of recall; 
when, turning to note its effect, she perceived that all of hei clien- 
tele had escaped. A look; of surprise and mortification and vexa- 
tion it was not in her power to suppress, and then came one of horror. 

“ How conspicuous we have made ourselves, and it is all my fault!” 
she said, for the first time that evening permitting her voice to fall 
to a becoming tone. “ Why, here we actually are, two ladies con- 
versing together, and no gentleman near us!” 

“ Is that being conspicuous?’ asked Eve, with a simplicity that 
was entirely natural. 

“ 1 am sure. Miss Effingham, one who has seen as much of society 
as you, can scarcely ask that question seriously. 1 do not think 1 
have done so improper a thing since 1 was fifteen; and, dear me! 
dear me! how to escape is the question. You have permitted your 
partner to go, and I do not see a gentleman of my acquaintance near 
us, to give me his arm!” 

“ As your distress is occasioned by my company,” said Eve, “ it 
is fortunately in my power to relieve it.” Thus saying, she quietly 
walked across the room, and took her seat next to Mademoiselle 
Viefville. 

Miss Ring held up her hands in amazement, and then fortunately 
perceiving one of the truants gaping at no great distance, she beck- 
oned him to her side. 

“ Have the goodness to give me your arm, Mr. Summerfield,” she 
said, “I am dying to get out of this unpleasantly conspicuous situ- 
ation ; but you are the first gentleman that has approached me this 
twelvemonth. 1 would not for the world do so brazen a thing as 
Miss Effingham has just achieved; would you believe it, she positively 
went from this spot to her seat, quite alone!” 

“ The Hajjis are privileged.” 

“ They make themselves so. But everybody knows how bold and 
unwomanly the French females are. One could wish, notwith- 
standing, that our own people would not import their audacious 
usages into this country.” 

“It is a thousand pities that Mr. Clay, in his compromise, 
neglected to make an exception against that article. A tariff on 
impudence would not be at all sectional.” 

“ It might interfere with the manufacture at home, notwithstand- 
ing,” said John Effingham; for the lungs were strong, and the rooms 
of Mrs. Houston so small, that little was said that evening which 
was not heard by any who chose to listen. But Miss Ring never 
listened, it being no part of the vocation of a belle to perform that 
inferior office, and sustained by the protecting arm of Mr. Bummer- 
field, she advanced more boldly into the crowd, wdiere she soon con- 


52 


HOME AS FOUXD. 


trived to catch another group of even six “ entertainees. ” As for 
jMr. Summerfield, he lived a twelvemonth on the reputation of the 
exceedingly clever thing he had just utteted. 

“ There come Ned and Aristabulus,” said John Effingham, as 
soon as The tones of Miss Ring’s voice were lost in the din ot fifty 
others, pitched to the same key. A present, mademoiselle, je vais 
nous xenger. ’ ’ 

As J ohn Effingham uttered this, he took Captain Truck by the 
arm, and went to meet his cousin and the land-agent. The latter 
he soon separated from Mr. Effingham, and with this new recruit, 
he managed to get so near to Miss Ring as to attract her attention. 
Although fifty, John Eflangham was known to be a bachelor, well 
connected, and to have twenty thousand a year. In addition, he 
was well preserved and singularly handsome, besides having an air 
that set all pretending gentility at defiance. These were qualities 
that no hello despised, and ill-assorted matches were, moreover, just 
coming into fashion in New York. Miss Ring had an intuitive 
knowledge that he wished to speak to her, and she was not slow in 
offering the opportunity. The superior tone ot John Effingham, his 
caustic wit and knowledge of the world, dispersed the five heaux in- 
continently; these persons having a natural antipathy to everyone 
of the qualities named. 

“ 1 hope you will permit me to presume on an acquaintance that 
extends back as far as your grandfather. Miss Ring,” he said, ” to 
present two very intimate friends, Mr. Bragg and Mr. Truck, gen 
tlemen who will well reward the acquaintaace.” 

The lady bowed graciously, for it was a matter of conscience with 
her to receive every man with a smile. She was still too much in 
awe of the master of ceremonies to open her batteries ot attack, but 
John Effingham soon relieved her, by afi:ecting a desire to speak to 
another lady. The hello had now the two strangers to herself, and 
having heard that the Etflnghams had an Englishman of condition 
as a companion, who was traveling under a false name, she fancied 
herself very clever in detecting him at once in the person of Arista- 
bulus; while by the aid of a lively imagination she thought Mr. 
Truck was his traveling Mentor, and a divine ot the Church of 
England. The incognito she was too well-bred to hint at, though 
she wished both the gentlemen to perceive that a hello was not to be 
mystified in this easy manner. Indeed, she was rather sensitive on 
the subject ot her readiness in recognizing a man of fashion under 
any circumstances, and to let this be known was her very first ob- 
ject, as soon as she was relieved from the presence of John Effingham. 

‘‘ You must be struck with the unsophisticated nature and the ex- 
treme simplicity of our society, Mr. Bragg,” she said, looking at 
him significantly; we are very conscious it is not what it might be, 
but do you not think it pretty well for beginners?” 

Now, Mr. Bragg had an entire consciousness that he had never 
seen any society that deserved the name before this very night, but 
he was supported in giving his opinions by that secret sense ot his 
qualifications to fill any station, which formed so conspicuous a trait 
in his character, and his answer was given with imdplomh that would 
have added weight to the opinion of the Megant ot the 

Chaussee d’Antin, 


HOME AS EOUHO. 


53 


“ It is indeed a, good deal unsophisticated,” he said, “ and so sim- 
ple that anybody can understand it. 1 find but a single fault with this 
entertainment, which is, in all else, the perfection of elegance in my 
eyes, and that is, that there is too little room to swing the legs in 
dancing.” 

” Indeed? 1 did not expect that— is it not the best usage of Eu- 
rope, now, to bring a quadrille into the very minimum of space?” 

” Quite the contrary, miss. All good dancing requires evolutions. 
The dancing dervishes, for instance, would occupy quite as much 
space as both of these sets that are walking before us, and 1 believe 
it is now generally admitted that all good dancing needs room for 
the legs.” 

“We necessarily get a little behind the fashions, in this distant 
country. Pray, sir, is it usual tor ladies to walk alone in society?” 

” Woman was not made to move through life alone, miss,” re- 
turned Aristabulus with a sentimental glance of the eye, for he never 
let a good opportunity for preferment slip through his fingers, and 
failing of Miss Efflugham, or Miss Yan Cortlandt, of whose estates 
and connections he had some pretty accurate notions, it struck him 
Miss Ring might possibly be a ver}^ eligible selection, as all was grist 
that came to his mill; ” this, I believe, is an admitted truth.” 

‘‘ By life you mean matrimony, 1 suppose.” 

‘‘Yes, miss, a man always means matrimony when he speaks to a 
young lady.” 

This rather disconcerted Miss Ring, who picked her nosegay, for 
she was not accustomed to hear gentlemen talk to ladies of matri- 
mony, but ladies to talk to gentlemen. Recovering her self-posses- 
sion, however, she said with a promptitude that did the school to 
which she belonged infinite credit: 

‘‘You speak, sir, like one having experience.” 

‘* Certainly, miss; I have been in love ever since 1 was ten years 
old; I may say 1 was born in love, and hope to die in love.” 

l^his a little out-Heroded Herod, but the belle was not a person to 
be easily daunted on such a subject. She smiled graciously, there- 
fore, and continued the conversation with renewed spirit. 

‘‘You traveled gentlemen get odd notions,” she said, ‘‘ and more 
particularly on such subjects. I always feel afraid to discuss them 
with foreigners, though with my own countrymen I have few re- 
serves Pray, Mr. Truck, are you satisfied with America? Do you 
find it the country you expected to see?” 

‘‘ Certainljq marm;” for so they pronounced this word in the 
river, and the captain cherished his first impressions; ‘‘when we 
sailed from Portsmouth, 1 expected that the first land we should 
make would be the Highlands of Navesink; and, although a little 
disappointed, I have had the satisfaction of laying eyes on it at lasl.” 

‘‘Disappointment, I fear, is the usual fate of those who come 
from the other side. Is this dwelling of Mrs. Houston’s equal to the 
residence of an English nobleman, Mr. Bragg?” 

” Considerably better, miss, especially in the way of republican 
comfort.” 

Miss Ring, like all belles, detested the word republican, their vo- 
cation being clearly to exclusion, and she pouted a little affectedly. 

‘‘ 1 should distrust the quality of such comfort, sir,” she said with 


54 


HOME AS EOUKD. 


point; “ but are the rooms at all comparable with the rooms in Aps- 
ley House, tor instance?” 

“ My dear miss, Apsley House is a toll-gate lodge compared to this 
mansion ! 1 doubt it there be a dwelling in all England half as mag- 
nificent — indeed, 1 can not imagine anything more folliant and rich. ” 

Aristabulus was not a man to do things by halves, and it was a 
point of honor with him to know something of everything. It is 
true he no more could tell where Apsley House was, or whether it 
was a tavern or a jail, than he knew halt the other things on which 
he delivered oracular opinions; but when it became necessary to 
speak, he was not apt to balk conversation from any ignorance, real 
or affected. The opinion he had just given, it is true, had a little 
surpassed Miss Ring’s hopes; for the next thing in her ambition to 
being a helle, and of ” entertaining ” gentlemen, was to fancy she was 
running her brilliant career in an orbit of fashion that lay parallel to 
that of the ‘‘ nobility and gentry ” of Great Britain. 

“ Well, this surpasses my hopes,” she said, “although I was 
aware we are nearly on a level with the more improved tastes of 
Europe; still 1 thought we were a little inferior to that part of the 
world yet.” 

“ Inferior, miss! That is a word that should never pass your 
lips; you are inferior to nothing, whether in Europe or America, 
Asia or Africa.” 

As Miss Ring had been accustomed to do most of the flattering 
herself, as it behooveth a belle, she began to be disconcerted with the 
directness of the compliments of Aristabulus, who was disposed to 
“ make hay while the sun shines,” and she turned in a little confu- 
sion to the captain by way of relief; we say confusion, for the young 
lady, although so liable to be misunderstood, was not actually im- 
pudent, but merely deceived in the relation of things; or in other 
words, by some confusion in usages, she had hitherto permitted her- 
self to do that in society which female performers sometimes do on 
the stage— enact the part of a man. 

“You should tell Mr. Bragg, sir,” she said, with an appealing 
look at the captain, “ that flattery is a dangerous vice, and one al- 
together unsuited to a Christian.” 

“ It is, indeed, marm, and one that 1 never indulge in. No one 
under my orders can accuse me of flattery.” 

By “ under orders,” Miss Ring understood curates and deacons; 
for she was aware the Church of England had clerical distinctions 
of this sort, that are unknown in America. 

“ 1 hope, sir, you do not intend to quit this country without fa- 
Toring us with a discourse.” 

“ Not 1, marm— 1 am discoursing pretty much from morning till 
night when among my own people, though 1 own that this convers- 
ing rather puts me out of my reckoning. Let me get ray foot on the 
planks 1 love, with an attentive audience, and a good cigar in my 
mouth, and I’ll hold forth with any bishop in the universe.” 

“ A cigar!” exclaimed Miss Ring, in surprise. “ Do gentlemen 
of your profession use cigars when on duty?” 

“ Does a parson take his fees? Why, miss, there is not a man 
among us who does not smoke from morning till night.” 

“ Surely not on Sundays?” 


HOME AS FOU^S'D. 


55 


“ Two tor one, on those days more than any other.” 

” And your people, sir, what do they do all this time?” 

” Why, marm, most of them chew; and those that don’t, if they 
•can not find a pipe, have a dull time of it. For my part, 1 shall 
hardly relish the good place itself, if cigars are prohibited.” 

Miss King was surprised ; but she had heard that the English clergy 
were more free than our own, and then she had been accustomed to 
think everything English of the purest water. A little reflection 
reconciled her to the innovation; and the next day, at a dinner- 
pnrty, she was heard defending the usage as a practice that had a 
precedent in the ancient incense of the altar. At that moment, 
..however, she was dying to impart her discoveries to others; and she 
kindly proposed to the captain and Aristabulus to introduce them to 
some of her acquaintances, as they must find it dull, being stran- 
gers, to know no one. Iniroductions and cigars were the captain’s 
hobbies, and he accepted the offer with joy, Aristabulus uniting 
cordially in the proposition, as he fancied he had a right, under the 
Constitution of the United States of America, to be introduced to 
every human being with whom he came in contact. 

It is scarcely necessary to say how much the party with whom the 
two neophytes in fashion had come, enjoyed all this, though they 
concealed their amusement under the calm exterior of people of the 
world. From Mr. Effingham the mystification was carefully con- 
cealed by his cousin, as the former would have felt it due to Mrs. 
Houston, a well-meaning but silly woman, to put an end to it. Eve 
and Grace laughed, as merry girls would be apt to laugh at such an 
occurrence, and they danced the remainder of the evening with 
lighter hearts than ever. At one, the company retired in the same 
informal manner, as respects announcements and the calling of car- 
riages, as that in which they entered; most to lay their drowsy heads 
on their pillows, and Miss Ring to ponder over the superior manners 
of a polished young Englishman, and, to dream of the fragrance of 
a sermon that was preserved in tobacco. 


CHAPTER VI. 


Marry, our play is the most lamentable 
Comedy, and most cmel death of Pyramus and 
Thisbe. 

Peter Quince. 


Our task in the way of describing town society will soon be end- 
ed. The gentlemen of the Effingham family had been invited to 
meet Sir George Templemore at one or two dinners, to which the 
latter had been invited in consequence of his letters, most of which 
were connected with his pecuniary arrangements. As one of these 
entertainments was like all the rest of the same character, a very 
brief account of it will suffice to let the reader into the secret of the 
excellence of the genus. 

A well-spread board, excellent viands, highly respectable cookery, 
and delicious wines, were everywhere met. Two rows of men clad 
in dark dresses, a solitary female at the head of the table, or, if fort- 
unate, with a supporter of the same sex near her, invariably com- 
posed the convives. The exaggerations of a province were seen lu- 


56 


JIU.ME AS rOUJsJ), 


clicrously in one particular custom. The host, or perhaps it might 
liave been the hostess, had been told there should be a contrast be- 
tween the duller light of the reception-room and the brilliancy of the 
table, and John Effingham actually hit his legs against a stool in 
lloundering through the obscurity of the first drawing-ioom he en- 
tered on one of the occasions in question. 

When seated at table, the first great duty of restauration per- 
formed, the conversation turned on the prices of lots, speculationa 
in towns, or the currency. After this came the regular assay of 
wines, during which it was easy to fancy the master of the house a 
dealer, for he usually sat either sucking a siphon or flourishing a 
corkscrew. The discourse would now have done credit to the an- 
nual meeting and dinner of the German exporters, assembled at 
Rudesheim to bid for the article. 

Sir George was certainly on the point of forming a very erroneous 
judgment concerning the country, when Mr. Effingham extricated 
him from this set, and introduced him properly into his own. Here,, 
indeed, while there was much to strilie a European as peculiar, and 
even provincial, the young baronet fared much better. He met with 
the same quality of table, relieved by an intelligence that was al- 
ways respectable, and a manliness of toue which, if not unmixed, 
had the great merit of a simplicity and nature that are not alwa3"s 
found in more sophisticated circles. The occasional incon.gruities 
struck them all, more than the positive general faults; and Sir 
George Templeniore did justice to the truth, by admitting frankly 
the danger he had been in of forming a too hasty opinion. 

All this time, which occupied a month, the young baronet got ta 
be more and more intimate in Hudson Square, Eve graduall}^ becom- 
ing more frank and unreserved with him, as she grew sensible that 
he had abandoned his hopes of success with herself, and Grace grad- 
ually' more cautious and timid, as she became conscious of his power 
to please, and the interest he took in herself. 

It might have been three days after the ball at Mrs. Houston’s 
that most of the family were engaged to look in on a Mrs. Legend, a 
lady of what was called a literary turn. Sir George having been 
asked to make one of their party. Aristabulus was already returned 
to his duty in the country, where we shall shortly have occasion to 
join him, but an invitation had been sent to Mr. Truck, under the 
general' erroneous impression of his real character. 

Taste, whether in the arts, literature, or anything else, is a natural 
impulse, like love. It is true both may be cultivated and heightened 
by circumstances, but the impulse must be voluntary, and the flow 
of feeling, or of soul, as it has become a law to style it, is not to be 
forced, or commanded to come and go at will. This is the reason 
that all premeditated enjoyments connected with the intellect are 
apt to baffle expectations, and why academies, literal y clubs, cote- 
ries, and dinners are commonly dull. It is true that a body of clever 
people may be brought together, and, if left to their own impulses 
the characters of their mind will show themselves; wit will flash" 
and thought will answer thought spontaneously; but every effort to 
make the stupid agreeable, by giving a direction of a pretending in- 
tellectual nature to their efforts, is only rendering dullness more con- 
spicuous by exhibiting it in contrast with what it ought to be to be 


HOME AS FOUND. 57 

clever, as a bad picture is rendered the more conspicuous by an 
elaborate and gorgeous frame. 

The latter was the fate of most of Mrs. Legend’s literary even- 
ings, at which it was thought an illustration to understand even oue 
foreign language. But it was known that Eve was skilled in most 
of the European tongues, and the good lady, not feeling that such 
^iccomplishments are chiefly useful as a means, looked about her in 
order to collect a set, among whom our heroine might find some one 
with whom to converse in each of her dialects. Little was said about 
it, it is true, but great efforts weie made to cause this evening to be 
memorable in the annals of comersazionL 

In Carrying out this scheme, nearly all the wits, writers, artists, 
and literati, as the most incorrigible members of the book clubs 
were styled in INew York, were pressingly invited to be present. 
Aristabulus had contrived to earn such a reputation for the captain, 
on the night of the ball, that he was universally called a man of let- 
ters, and an article had actually appeared in one of the papers, 
speaking of the literary merits of the “ Hon. and Rev. Mr. Truck, a 
gentleman traveling in our country, from whose liberality and just 
views an account of our society was to be expected, that should, 
at last, do justice to our national character.” With such expecti- 
tions, then, every true American and Americaness was expected to 
be at his or her post, for the solemn occasion. It was a rally of 
literature, in defense of the institutions— no, not of the institutions, 
lor they were left to take care of themselves — but of the social 
‘character of the community. 

Alas! it is easier to feel high aspirations on such subjects, in a 
provincial town, than to succeed; for merely calling a place an em- 
porium, is very far from giving it the independence, high tone, 
condensed intelligence, and tastes of a capital. Poor Mis. Legend, 
-desirous of having all the tongues duly represented, was obliged to 
invite certain dealers in gin from Holland, a German linen merchant 
from Saxony, an Italian Camliero, who amused himself in selling 
beads, and a Spanish master, who was born in Portugal, all of 
■whom^had just one requisite for conversation in their respective 
languages, and no more. But such assemblies were convened in 
Paris, and why not in New York? 

We shall not stop to dwell on the awful sensations with which 
Mrs. Legend heard the first ring at her door on the eventful night in 
question. It was the precursor of the entrance of Miss Annual, as 
regular a devotee of letters as ever conned a primer. The meeting 
was sentimental and affectionate. Before either had time, however, 
to disburden her mind of one half of its prepared phrases, ring upon 
ring proclaimed more company, and the rooms were soon as much 
sprinkled with talent as a modern novel with jests. Among those 
who came first, appeared all the foreign corps, for the refreshments 
entered as something into the account with them; every blue of the 
place, whose social position in the least entitled her to be seen in 
such a house, Mrs. Legend belonging quite positively to good so- 
ciety. 

The scene that succeeded was very characteristic. A professed 
genius does nothing like other people, except in cases that require a 
display of talents. In all minor matters, he or she is sui generis, 


HOME AS rOUNDo 


58 

for sentiment is in constant ebullition in their souls; this being 
what is meant by the flow of that part of the human system. 

We might here very well adopt the Homeric method, and call the 
roll of heroes and heroines, in what the French would term a cata- 
logue faisonnee ; but our limits compel us to be less ambitious, and 
to adopt a simpler mode of communicating facts. Among the ladies 
who now figured in the drawing-room of Mrs, Legend, besides Miss 
Annual, were Miss Monthly, Mrs. Economy, S.R.P., Marion, Lon- 
ginus, Julietta, Herodotus, D.O.V.E,, and Mrs. Demonstration; be- 
sides many others of less note; together with at least a dozen female 
Hajiis, whose claims to appear in such society were pretty much 
dependent on the fact that, having seen pictures and statues abroad, 
they necessarily must have the means of talking of them at home. 
The list of men was still more formidable in^numbers, if not in 
talents. At its head stood Steadfast Dodge, Esquire, whose fame 
as a male Hajji had so far swollen since Mrs. Jarvis’ rhinion, that, 
for the first time in his life, he now entered one of the better houses 
of his own country. Then there were the authors of “ Lapis 
Lazuli,” “The Aunts,” ‘‘The Reformed,” “The Conformed,” 
“The Transformed,” and “The Deformed;” with the editors of 
•“ The Hebdomad,” “The Night-Cap,” “The Chrysalis,” “The 
Real Maggot,” and “The Seek no Furtlier;” as also, “Junius,” 
“Junius Brutus,” “Lucius Junius Brutus,” “Captain Kant,” 
“ Florio,” the “ Author of the History of Billy Linkum Tvveedle,’^ 
the celebrated Pottawattamie Prophet, “ Single Rhyme,” a genius 
wlio had prudently rested his fame in verse on a couplet composed 
of one line; besides divers amateurs and connoisseurs, Hajjis, who 
must be men of talents, as they had acquired all they knew very 
much as American Eclipse gained his laurels on the turf; that is 
to say, by a free use of the whip and spur. 

As Mrs. Legend sailed about her rooms amid such a circle, her 
mind expanded, her thoughts diffused themselves among her guests 
on the principle of animal magnetism, and her heart was melting 
with the tender sympathies of congenial tastes. She felt herself to 
be at the head of American talents, and, in the secret recfsses of 
her reason, she determined that, did even the fate of Sodom and 
Gomorrah menace her native town, as some evil-disposed persons 
had dared to insinuate might one day be the case, here was enough 
to save it from destruction. 

It was just as the mistress of the mansion had come to this con- 
soling conclusion, that the party from Hudson Square rang. As 
few of her guests came in carriages, Mrs. Legend, who heard the 
rolling of wheels, felt persuaded that the lion of the night was now 
indeed at hand, and with a view to a proper reception, she requested 
the company to divide itself into two lines, in order that he might 
enter, as it were, between lanes of genius. 

It may be necessary to explain at this point of our narrative that 
John Effingham was perfectly aware of the error which existed in 
relation to the real character of Captain Truck, wherein he thought 
great injustice had been done the honest seaman; and the old man 
intending to sail for London next morning, had persuaded him to 
accept this invitation, in order that the public mind might be dis- 
abused in a matter of so much importance. With a view that this 


HOME AS EOUHD, 


59 


might be done naturally and without fuss, however, he did not ex- 
plain the mistake to his nautical triend, believing it most probable 
that this could be better done incidentally, as it were, in the course ot 
the evening, and feeling certain ot the force of that wholesome 
apophthegm which says that “ truth is powerful and must prevail. 

“ If this he so,” added John Effingham, in his explanations to Eve, 
“ there can be no place where the sacred quality will be so likely to 
assert itself as in a galaxy of geniuses, whose distinctive characteris- 
tic is ‘ an intuitive perception of things in their real colors.’ ” 

When the door of Mrs. Legend’s drawing-room opened, in the 
usual noiseless manner. Mademoiselle Viefville, who led the way, 
wms startled at finding herself in the precise situation of one who is 
condemned to run the gantlet. Fortunately she caught a glimpse 
of Mrs. Legend, posted at the other end of the proud array, inviting 
her with smiles to approach. The invitation had been to a “ literary 
fete,’’ and Mademoiselle Viefville was too much of a Frenchwoman 
to be totally disconcerted at a little scenic effect on the occasion of a 
of any sort. Supposing she was now a witness of an American 
ceremony for the first time, for the want of representation in the 
country had been rather a subject of animadversion with her, she 
advanced steadily toward the mistress of the house, bestowing smile 
for smile, this being a part of the programme at which a Paruienne 
was not easily outdone. Eve followed, as usual, sola ; Grace came 
next; then Sir George; then John Effingham; the captain bringing 
up the rear. There had been a friendly contest for the precedencj’’ 
between the two last, each desiring to yield it to the other on the 
score of merit; but the captain prevailed, by declaring “ that he was 
navigating an unknown sea, and that he could do nothing wiser 
than to sail in the wake of so good a pilot as Mr. John Effingham.” 

As Hajjis of approved experience, the persons W'ho led the ad- 
vance in this little procession were subjects of a proper attention and 
respect; but as the admiration of mere vulgar tiaveling would in 
itself be vulgar, care was taken to reserve the condensed feeling of 
the company for the celebrated English writer and wit who was 
known to bring up the rear. This was not a common house in 
wffiich dollars had place, or belles rioted, but the temple of genius; 
and every one felt an ardent desire to manifest a proper homage to 
the abilities of the established foreign writer, that should be in exact 
proportion to their indifference to the twenty thousand a year of 
John Effingham, and to the nearly equal amount of Eve’s expecta- 
tions. 

- The personal appearance ot the honest tar was well adapted to the 
character he was thus called on so unexpectedly to support. His 
hair had long been getting gray; but the intense anxiety of the 
chase, of the wreck, and of his other recent adventures, had rapidly 
but effectually increased this mark ot time, and his head was now 
nearly as white as snow. The hale, fresh red of his features, which 
was in truth the result of exposure, might very well pass for the tint 
of port; and his tread, which had always a little of the quarter-deck 
swing about it, might quite easily be mistaken by a tyro for the 
human frame staggering under a load of learning. Unfortunately 
for those who dislike mystification, the captain had consulted John 
Effingham on the subject of the toilet, and that kind and indulgent 


60 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


Irieud had suggested the propriety of appearing in hiack small-clMh 
for the occasion, a coslume that he often wore himself of an even- 
ing. Reality, in this instance, then, did not disappoint expectation, 
and the burst of applause with which the captain was received, was 
accompanied by a general murmur in commendation of the admi- 
rable manner in which he “ looked the character.” 

” What a Byronic head,” whispered the author of ” The Trans- 
formed ” to D. O. V. E. ; ” and was there ever such a curl of the 
lip, before, to mortal man?” 

The truth is, the captain had thrust his tobacco into ” an aside,” 
as a monkey is known to empoclier a spare nut or a lump of sugar. 

“ Do you think him Byronic? To my eyes the cast of his head is 
Shakespearean, rather. Though 1 confess there is a little of Milton 
about the forehead!” 

” Pray,” said Miss Annual to Lucius Junius Brutus, ” which is 
commonly thought to be the best of his works? That on a — a — a — 
or that on e— e— e?” 

Now it so happened that not a soul in the room, but the lion him- 
self, had any idea what books he had wiitten, and he knew only of 
some fifteen or twenty log-books. It was generally understood that 
he was a great English writer, and this was more than sufficient. 

” 1 believe the world generally prefers the a — a— a,” said Lucius 
Junius JBi’utus; ‘‘but the few give a decided preference to the 
e— e— e.” 

” Oh! out of all question preferable!” exclaimed half a dozen in 
hearing. 

” With what a classic modesty he pays his compliments to Mrs. 
Legend,” observed ” S. R. P.” ” One can always tell a man of 

real genius by his ienue” 

” He is so English!” cried Floiio. ” Ah! they are the only peo- 
ple after all!” 

This Florio was one of those geniuses who sigh most for the 
things that they least possess. 

By this time Captain Truck had got through with listening to the 
compliments of Mrs. Legend, when he was seized upon by a circle 
of rabid literati, who badgered him with questions concerning his 
opinions, notions, inferences, experiences, associations, sensations, 
sentiments, and intentions, in a way that soon threw the old man 
into a profuse perspiration. Fifty times did he wish, from the 
bottom of his soul — that soul which the crowd around him fancied 
dwelt so high in the clouds — that he was seated quietly by the side 
of Mrs. Hawker, who, he mentally swore, was worth all the literati 
in Christendom. But fate had decreed otherwise, and we shall leave 
him to his fortune for a time, and return to our heroine and her 
party. 

As soon as Mrs. Legend had got through with her introductory 
compliments to the captain, she sought Eve and Grace, with a con- 
sciousness that a few civilities were now their due. 

‘‘ 1 fear. Miss Effingham, after the elaborate soirees of the literary 
circles in Paris, you will find our reunions of the same sort a little 
dull; and yet I flatter myself with having assembled most of the 
talents of New York on this memorable occasion, to do honor to 
your friend. Are you acquainted with many of the company?” 


HOME AS FOUND. 


61 


Now, Eve had never seen nor heard of a single being in the room, 
with the exception of Mr. Dodge and her own party, before this 
night, although most of them had been so laboriously employed in 
puffing each other into celebrity for many weary years, and as for 
elaborate soirees she thought she had never seen one half as elaborate 
as this of Mrs. Legend’s. As it would not very well do, however, 
to express all this in words, she civilly desired the lady to point out 
to her some of the most distinguished of the company. 

“ With the greatest pleasure. Miss Effingham,” said Mrs. Legend 
taking pride in dwelling on the merits of her guests. ” This heavy, 
grand -looking personage, in whose air one sees refinement and 
modesty at a glance, is Captain Kant, the editor of one of our most 
decidedly pious newspapers. His mind is distinguished for its in- 
tuitive perception of all that is delicate, reserved, and finished in the 
intellectual world, while, in opposition to this quality, which is al- 
most feminine, his character is just as remarkable for its unflinching 
love of truth. He was never known to publish a falsehood, and of 
his foreign correspondence, in particular, he is so exceedingly care- 
ful, that he assures me he has every word of it written under his 
owm eye.” 

” On tne subject of his religious scruples,” added John Effing- 
Jiam, ” he is so fastidiously exact, that 1 hear he ‘ says grace ’ over 
everything that goes from his press, and ‘ returns thaiiks ’ for every- 
thing that comes to it. ” 

“You know him, Mr. Effingham, by this remark? Is he not, 
truly, a man of a vocation?” 

“ That, indeed, he is, ma’am. He may be succinctly said to have 
a newspaper mind, as he reduces everything in nature or art to news, 
and commonly imparts to it so much of his own peculiar character, 
that it loses all identity with the subjects to which it originally be- 
longed. One scarcely knows which to admire most about this man, 
the atmospheric transparency of his motives, for he is so disinterested 
as seldom even to think of paying for a dinner when traveling, and 
yet so conscientious as always to say something obliging of the 
tavern as soon as he gets home— his rigid regard to facts, or the ex- 
quisite refinement and delicacy that he imparts to everything he 
touches. Over all this, too, he throws a beautiful halo of morality 
and religion, never even prevaricating in the hottest discussion, un- 
less with the unction of a saint!” 

‘‘Do you happen to know Florio?” asked Mrs. Legend, a little 
distrusting John Effingham’s account of Captain Kant. 

‘‘If 1 do, it must indeed be by accident. What are his chief 
characteristics, ma’am?” 

‘‘ Sentiment, pathos, delicacy, and all in rhyme, too. Y^ou, no 
doubt, have heard of his triumph over Lord Byron, Miss Effing- 
ham?” 

Eve was obliged to confess that it was new to her. 

” Why, Byron wrote an ode to Gl'eece commencing with ‘ The Isles 
of Greece! the Isles of Greece!’ a very feeble line, as any one will 
see, for it contained a useless and an unmeaning repetition.” 

‘‘And you might add vulgar, too, Mrs. Legend,” said John Effing- 
ham, ‘‘ since it made a palpable allusion to all those vulgar incidents 
that associate themselves in the mind with these said commonplace 


62 


HOME AS FOUND. 


isles. The arts, philosophy, poetry, eloquence, and even old 
Homer, are brought unpleasantly to one’s recollection by such an 
indiscreet invocation.” 

” So Florio thought, and, by way of letting the world perceive the 
essential ditierence between the base and the pure coin, he wrote an 
ode on England, which commenced as such an ode should!” 

” Do you happen to recollect any of it, ma’am?” 

” Only tlie first line, which 1 greatly regret, as the rhyme is 
Florio’s chief merit. But this line is of itself sufficient to immor- 
talize a man.” 

” Do not keep us in torment, dear Mrs. Legend, but let us have it 
for heaven’s sake!” 

“It began in this sublime strain, sir — ‘Beyond the wave! Be- 
yond the wave!’ Now, Miss Effingham, that is what 1 call poetry!” 

” And well you may, ma’am,” returned the gentleman, who per- 
ceived Eve could scarce refrain from breaking out in a very un- 
sentimental manner — ” so much pathos.” 

” And so sententious and flowing!” 

” Condensing a journey of three thousand miles, as it might be, 
into three words, and a note of admiration. 1 trust it was printed 
with a note of admiration, Mrs. Legend?” 

” Yes, sir, with two — one behind each wave — and such waves, 
Mr. Efilngham!” 

” Indeed, ma’am, you may say so. One really gets a grand idea 
of them, England lying beyond each.” 

” So much expressed in so few syllables!” 

” 1 think 1 see every shoal, current, ripple, rock, island, and whale, 
between Sandy Hook and the Land’s End.” 

” He hints at an epic.” 

‘‘ Pray God he may execute one. Let him make haste, too, or 
he may get ‘ behind the age,’ ‘ behind the age.’ ” 

Here the lady was called away to receive a guest. 

” Cousin Jack!” 

‘‘ Eve Effinaham!” 

” Do you not sometimes fear offending?” 

‘‘Not a woman who begins withexpressing her admiration of 
such a sublime thing as this. You are safe with such a person any- 
where short of a tweak of the nose.” 

” Mais, tout ceci est hen dr ole !” 

“You never were more mistaken in your life, mademoiselle; 
everybody here looks upon it as a matter of life and death.” 

Tiie new guest was Mr. Pindar, one of those careless, unsenti- 
mental fellows, that occasionally throw oft an ode that passes through 
Christendom as dollars are known to pass from China to Norway, 
and yet who never fancied spectacles necessary to his appearance, 
solemnity to his face, nor soirees to his renown. After quitting Mrs. 
Legend he approached Eve, to whom he was slightly known, and 
accosted her. 

‘‘This is the region of taste. Miss, Effingham,” he said, with a 
shrug of the jaw, it such a member can shrug; ‘‘ and 1 do not 
wonder at finding you here.” 

He then chatted pleasantly a moment with the party, and passed 
on, giving an ominous gape as he drew nearer to ihe oi 2 )olhi ot 


HOME AS FOUND. 


63 


literature. A moment after appeared Mr. Gray, a man who needed 
nothing but taste in the public, and the encouragement that would 
follow such a taste, to stand at, or certainly near, the head of the 
poets of our own time. He, too, looked shyly at the galaxy, and 
took refuge in a corner. Mr. Pith followed; a man whose caustic 
wit needs only a sphere for its exercise, manners to portray, and a 
society with strong points about it to illustrate, in order to enroll his 
name high on the catalogue of satirists. Another ring announced 
Mr. Fun, a writer of exquisite humor, and of finished periods, but 
who, having perpetrated a little too much sefitiment, was instantly 
seized upon by all the ultra ladies who were addicted to the same 
taste in that way in the room. 

These persons came too late, like those who had already been too 
often dosed in the same way, to be impatient of repetitions. The 
three first soon got together in a corner, and Eve fancied they were 
laughing at the rest of the company, whereas, in fact, they were 
merely laughing at a bad joke of their own; their quick perception 
of the ludicrous having pointed out a hundred odd combinations 
and absurdities, that would have escaped duller minds. 

“ Who, in the name of the twelve Caesars, has Mrs. Legend got 
to lionize yonder, with the white summit and the dark base?” asked 
the writer of odes. 

” Some English pamphleteer, by what I can learn,” answered he 
of satire; ” some fellow who has achieved a pert review, or written 
a Minerva-Pressism, and who now flourishes like a bay tree among 
us. A modern Horace, or a Juvenal on his travels.” 

” Fun is well badgered,” observed Mr. Gray. ” Do you not see 
that Miss Annual, Miss Monthly, and that young alphabet D. O. 
V. E., have got him within the circles of their petticoats, where he 
will be martyred on a sigh?” 

He casts longing looks this way; he wishes j'ou to go to his res- 
cue, Pith.” 

”1! Let him take his fill of sentiment 1 1 am no homoeopathist 
in such matters. Large doses in quick succession will soonest work 
a cure. Here comes the lion, and he breaks loose from his cage, like 
a beast that has been poked up witb sticks.” 

” Good evening, gentlemen,” said Captain Truck, wiping his face 
intensely, and who, having made his escape from a throng of ad- 
mirers, took refuge in the first port that offered. 

” You seem to be enjoying j'^ourselves here in a rational and 
agreeable way. Quite cooi and refreshing in this corner.” 

” And yet we have no doubt thal both our reason and our amuse- 
ment. will receive a large increase from the addition of your society, 
sir,” returned Mr. Pith. ‘‘ Do us the favor to take a seat, 1 beg of 
you, and rest yourself.” 

” With all my heart, gentlemen; for, to own the truth, these ladies 
make warm work about a stranger. I have just got out of what I 
call a category.” 

” You appear to have escaped with life, sir,” observed Pindar, 
taking; a cool survey of the other’s person. 

” Yes, thank God, 1 have done that, and it is pretty much all,” 
answered the captain, wu’ping his face. ” 1 served in the French 
war— Truxon’s war, as we call it— and 1 had a touch with the En- 


64 


HOME AS FOUND. 


glish in the privateer trade, between twelve and fifteen; and here, 
quite lately, 1 was in an encounier with the savage Arabs down on 
the coast of Africa; and 1 account them all as so much snow-balling 
compared with the yard-arm and yard-arm work of this very night. 
1 wonder if it is permitted to try a cigar at these conversation-onies, 
gentlemen?” 

” I believe it is, sir,” returned Pindar, coQlly. “ Shall 1 help you 
to a light?” 

‘‘Oh! Mr. Truck!” cried Mrs. Legend, following the chafed 
animal to his corner, as one would pursue any other runaway, ” in- 
stinct has brought you into this good company. You are no tv in 
the very focus of American talents. ’ ’ 

‘‘ Having just escaped from the focus of American talons,” whis- 
pered Pith. 

‘‘ 1 mast be permitted to introduce you myself. Mr. Truck, Mr. 
Pinder— Mr. Pith— Mr. Gray; gentlemen, you must be so happy to 
be acquainted, being, as it were, engaged in the same pursuits!” 

The captain rose and shook each of the gentlemen cordially by the 
hand, for he had, at least, the consolation of a great many introduc- 
tions that night. Mrs. Legend disappeared to say something to 
some other prodigy. 

” Happy to meet you, gentlemen,” said the captain. ” In what 
trade do you sail?” 

‘‘ By whatever name we may call it,” answered Mr. Pindar, ” we 
can scarcely be said to go before the wind.” 

‘‘Notin the Injee business, then, or the monsoons W’^ould keep 
the stun’sails set, at least.” 

” No, sir. But yonder is Mr. Moccasin, who has lately set up 
secundum artem in the Indian business, having written tw^o novels 
in that way already, and begun a third.” 

‘‘ xAre you allTegularly employed, gentlemen?” 

‘‘As regularly as inspiration points,” said Mr. Pith. ‘‘Men of 
our occupation must make fair weather of it, or we had better be 
doing nothing.” 

” So 1 often tell my owners, but ‘ go ahead ’ is the order. When 
I was a youngster, a ship remained in port for a fair wind; but now 
she goes to w'ork and makes one. The world seems to get young, 
as 1 get old.” 

‘‘ This is a rum litterateur,'' Gray whispered to Pindar. 

‘‘It is an obvious mystification,” was the answer; ” poor Mrs, 
Legend has picked up some straggling porpoise, and converted him, 
by a touch of her magical wand, into a Boanerges of literature. 
The thing is as clear as day, for the worthy fellow smells of tar and 
cigar smoke. I perceive that Mr. Effingham is laughing out of the 
corner of his eyes, and will step across the room and get the truth 
in a minute.” 

The rogue was as godd as his word, and was soon back again, and 
contrived to let his friends understand the real state of the case. A 
knowledge of the captain’s true character encouraged this trio in 
the benevolent purpose of aiding the honest old seaman in his wish 
to smoke, and Pith managed to give him a lighted paper, without 
becoming an open accessory to the plot. 


HOME AS FOUHD. 65 

“ Will you take a cigar yourself, sir?” said the captain, offering 
liis box to Mr, Pindar. 

“I thank you, Mr. Truck, 1 never smoke, but am a profound 
admirer of the flavor. Let me entreat you to begin as soon as pos- 
sible.” 

Thus encouraged. Captain Truck drew two or three whiffs, when 
the rooms were immediately filled with the fragrance of a real 
Havana. At the first discovery, the whole literaiy pack w^ent ofl on 
the scent. As for Mr. Fun, he managed to profit by the agitation 
that followed, in order to escape to the three wags in the corner, 
who w^ere enjoying the scene with the gravity of so many dervishes. 

” As 1 iive,” cried Lucius Junius Brutus, ” there is the author of 
a— a — a— actually smoking a cigar! How excess[ve]y piquant/" 

” Do my eyes deceive me, or is not that the writer of e— e— e — 
fumigating us all?” whispered Miss Annual. 

“ Nay, this cannot ceitainly be right,” put in Florio, with a dog- 
matical manner. ” All the periodicals agree that smoking is un- 
genteel in England.” 

‘‘You never were more mistaken, dear Florio,” replied D. O. V. 
E. in a cooing tone. ” The very last novel of society has a chapter 
in which the hero and heroine smoke in the declaration scene, ” 

” Do they, indeed! That alters the case. Really one would not 
wish to get behind so great a nation, nor yet go much before it. 
Pray, Captain Kant, what do your friends in Canada say; is or is nut 
smoking permitted in good society there? the Canadians must at 
least be ahead of us.” 

” Not at all, sir,” returned the editor in his softest tones; ‘‘ it is 
revolutionary and Jacobinical.” 

But the ladies prevailed, and by a process that is rather peculiar 
to what may be called a ‘‘ credulous ” state of society, the}’' carried 
the day. This process was simply to make one fiction authority for 
another. The tact that smoking was now carried so far in England, 
that the clergy actually used cigars in pulpits, w’as affirmed on the 
authority of "Mr. Truck himself, and coupled w'ith his present occu- 
pation, the point w^as deemed to be settled. Even Florio yielded, 
and his plastic mind soon saw a thousand beauties in the usage, that 
had hitherto escaped it. All the litterati drew round the captain in 
a ciicle, to enjoy the spectacle, though the honest old mariner con- 
trived to throw out such volumes of vapor as to keep them at a sate 
distance. His four demure-looking neighbors got behind the bar- 
rier of smoke, where they deemed themselves entrenched against the 
assaults of sentimental petticoats, for a time at least. 

” Pray, Mr. Truck,” inquired S. R. P., ” is it commonly thought 
in the English literary circles, that Byron was a development of 
Shakespeare, or Shakespeare a shadowing forth of Byron?” 

” Both, marm,” said the captain, w’itli a coolness that would have 
done credit to Aristabulus, for he had been fairly badgered into im- 
pudence, profiting by the occasion to knock the ashes off his cigar; 
•"* all incline to the first opinion, and most to the last.” 

‘‘ What finesse!” murmured one. ” How delicate f” whispered a 
second. ‘‘ A dignified reserve!” ejaculated a third. ‘‘ So English!” 
.exclaimed Florio. 

” Do yon think, Mr. Truck,” asked D. O. Y. E., that the pro- 
3 


G6 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


fane songs ot Little have more pathos than the sacred songs of 
Moore; or that the sacred songs of Moore have more sentiment thart 
the profane songs of Little?” 

” A good deal of both, maim, and something to spare. I think 
there is little in one, anl more in the other.” 

“Pray, sir,” said J. E. P., “do you pronounce the name of 
Byron’s lady-love, Guy-kee-oh-i!^, or Guy-ky o-^e^?.^” 

“ That depends how the wind is. If on shore, 1 am apt to say* 
‘ oh-lee;’ and it oft shoie, ‘ oh-lie.’ ” 

“That’s capital!” cried Florio, in an ecstasy of admiration. 
“ What man in this country could have said as crack a thing as 
that?” 

“ Indeed it is very witty,” added Miss Monthly — “ what does it 
mean?” 

“Mean! More than is seen or felt by common minds. Ah! tho 
English are truly a great nation! How delightfully he smokes!” 

“ 1 tliink he is much the most interesting man we have had out 
here,” observed Miss Annual, “ since the last bust of Scott!” 

“ Ask him, dear D. O. V. E.,” whispered Julietta, who ^vas timid, 
from the circumstance of never having published, “ wLichhe thinks- 
the most ecstatic feeling, hope or despair?” The question was put 
by the more experienced lady, according to request, though she first 
said, in a hurried tone to her youthful sister — “ ymu can have felt 
but little, child, or you would know that it is despair, as a matter of 
course.” 

The honest captain, however, did not treat the matter so lightly, 
for he improved the opportunity to light a fresh cigar, throwing the 
still smoking stump into Mrs, Legend's grate, through a lane of 
literati, as he afterward boasted, as coolly as he could have thrown 
it overboard, under other circumstances. Luckily for his reputation 
for sentiment, he mistook “ecstatic,” a word he had never heard 
before, for “erratic;” and recollecting sundry roving maniacs that 
he had seen, he answered promptly — 

“ Despair, out and out.” 

“ 1 knew it,” said one. 

“ It’s in nature,” added a second. 

“ All can feel its truth,” rejoined a third. 

“ This point may now be set down as established,” cried Florio, 

“ and 1 hope no more will be said about it.” 

“ This is encouragement to the searchers after truth,” put in Cap- 
tain Kant, 

“Pray, Hon. and Eev. Mr, Truck,” answered Lucius Junius 
Brutus, at the joint suggestion of Junius Brutus and Brutus, “ does 
the Princess Victoria smoke?” 

“ If she did not, sir, where would be the use in being a princess?^ 

1 suppose you know that all the tobacco seized in England, after a 
deduction to informers, goes to the crown.” 

“ 1 object to this usage,” remarked Captain Kant, “ as irreligious, 
French, and tending to sans-culoiteism. 1 am willing to admit of 
this distinguished instance as an exception, but on all other grounds, 

1 shall maintain that it savors of infidelity to smoke. The Prussian 
government, much the best of our tiiiies, never smokes.” 

“ This man thinks he has a monopoly of the puffing himself,” 


HOME AS found; 67 

Piudar whispered into the captain’s ear; “ whift away, my dear sir, 
;and you’ll soon throw him into the shade.” 

The captain winked, drew out his box, lighted another cigar, and, 
by way of reply to the envious remark, he put one in each corner of 
his mouth, and soon had both in full blast, a state in which he kept 
them for near a minute. 

” This is the very picturesque of social enjoyment,” exclaimed 
Florio, holding up botli hands in a glow of rapture. 

” It js absolutely Homeric, in the way of usages! Ah! the En- 
glish nation are a great nation!” 

“ 1 should like to know excessively if there was really such a __ 
person as Baron Mun-chaw-sen?” said Julietta, gathering courage ~ 
from the success of her last question. 

” There was, miss,” returned the captain, through his teeth, and 
nodding his head in the affirmative. ” A regular traveler, that; 
and one wdio knew him well, swore to me that he hadn’t related one 
half of what befell him.” 

” How very delightful to learn this from the highest quarter!” 
exclaimed Miss IMonthly. 

” Is Gatty ” (Goethe) ” really dead?” inquired Longinus, ‘‘oris the 
account we have had to that effect, merely a metaphysical apotheosis 
of his mighty soul?” 

‘‘ Dead, marm— stone dead — dead as a door-nail,” returned the 
captain, who saw a relief in killing as many as possi])le. 

‘‘ You have been in France, Mr. Truck, beyond question?” ob- - 
served Lucius Junius Brutus, in the way one puts a question. 

” France! 1 was in France before I was ten years old. 1 know 
every foot of the coast, from Havre de Grace to Marseilles.”- 

‘‘ Will you then have the goodness ro explain to us whether the _ 
soul of Chal-/(9-bri-e»i^ is more expanded than his reason, or his ~ 
reason more expanded than iris soul?” 

Captain Truck had a very tolerable notion of Baron Munchausen 
and of his particular merits: but Chateaubriand was a wuiter of 
whom he knew nothing. After pondering a moment, and feeling 
persuaded that a confession of ignorance might undo him — for the 
■old man had got to be influenced by the atmospiiere of the place — 
he aiiswered coolly — 

‘‘Oh! Chat-?!6>-bri-c7?^, is it you mean? As whole-souled a fellow 

as 1 know’. All soul, sir, and lots of reason, besides.” 

‘‘ How simple and unaffected!” 

‘‘ Crack!” exclaimed Florio. 

‘‘ A thorough Jacobin!” growled Captain Kant, who was always 
offended when any one but himself took liberties with the truth. 

Here the four wags in the corner observed that head went to head 
in the crowd, and that the rear rank of the company began to dis- 
appear, while Mrs. Legend was in evident distress. In a tew min- 
utes all the Romans w’ere oft ; Florio soon after vanished, grating his _ 
teeth in a poetical frenzy; and even Captain Kant, albeit so used to 
look tiutli in the face, beat a retreat. The alphabet followed, and 
even the Annual and the Monthly retired, with leave-takings so sol- 
emn and precise, that poor Mrs. Legend w’as in total despair. 

Plve, foreseeing something unpleasant, had gone aw’ay first, and 
in a few’ minutes Mr. Dodge v lio had been very active in the 


68 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


crowd, whispering and gesticulating, made his bow also. The envy 
of this man had in fact become so intolerable, that he had let the 
cat oat of the bag. No one now remained but the party intrenched 
behind the smoke, and the mistress of the house. Pindar solemnly- 
proposed to the captain that they should go and enjoy an oyster sup- 
per in company; and the proposal being cordially accepted, they rose 
iu a body to take leave. 

“ A most delightful evening, Mrs. Legend,” said Pindar, with ‘ 
perfect truth, ” much the pleasantest 1 ever passed in a house where 
one passes so many that are agreeable.” 

“ 1 can not properly express mj^ thanks for the obligation you have 
conferred by making me acquainted with Mr. Truck,” added Gray. 

“ 1 shall cultivate it as far as in my power, for a more capital fellow 
never breathed.” 

‘‘ Really, Mrs. Legend, this has been a BjTonic night!” observed 
Pith, as he made his bow. ‘‘ 1 shall long remember it, and 1 think 
it deserves to be commemorated in verse. ” 

Fun endeavored to look sympathetic and sentimental, though the 
spirit within could scarcely refrain from grinning in Mrs. Legend's 
face. He stammered out a few compliments, however, and dis- 
appeared. 

” Well, good-night, marm,” said Captain Truck, offering his hand 
cordially. ‘‘ This has been a very pleasant evening altogether, 
though it was warm work at iirsi. If you like ships, 1 should be 
glad to show you the ‘ Montauk's ’ cabins when we get back; and 
if you ever think of Europe, let me recommend the London line as 
none of the worst. We’ll try to make you comfortable, and trust to 
me to choose a state-room— a thing 1 am experienced in.” 

Not one of the wags laughed until they were fairly confronted 
with the oysters. Then, indeed, they burst out into a general and 
long fit of exuberant merriment, returning to it between the courses 
from the kitchen like the refrain of a song. Captain Truck, who 
was uncommonly well satisfied with himself, did not understand 
the meaning of all this boyishness, but he has often declared since 
that a heartier or a funnier set of fellows he never fell in wfith, than 
his four companions proved to be that night. 

As for the literary soiree, the most profound silence has been 
maintained concerning it, neither of the wits there assembled having 
seen fit to celebrate it in rhyme, and Florio having actually torn up 
an impromptu for the occasion, that he had been all the previous 
day writing. 


CHAPTER VII. 

There is a histoiy in all men’s lives, 

Figuring the natm-e of the times deceased, 

The which observed, a man may prophesy. 

With a near aim, of the main chance of things. 

As yet not come to life. 

King Henry VI. 

The following morning the baronet breakfasted in Hudson 
Square. While at the table, little was said concerning the events of 
the past night, though sundry smiles were exchanged, as eye met 


HOME AS FOUND. 


69 


eye, and the recollection of the mystification returned. Grace alone 
looked grave; for she had been accustor.red to consider Mrs. Legend 
a very discriminating person, and she had even hoped that most ot 
those who usually figured in her rooms were really the clever per- 
sons they laid claim to be. 

The morning was devoted to looking at the quarter of the town 
which is devoted to business, a party having been made tor that ex- 
press purpose under the auspices of John Effingham. As the 
weather was very cold, although the distances were not great, the 
carriages were ordered, and they all set off about noon. 

Grace had given up expecting a look of admiration from Eve in 
behalf of "any of the lions of New York, her cousin having found 
it necessary to tell her, that, in a comparative sense, at least, little 
was to be said in behalf of these provincial wonders. Even Mile, 
Viefville, now that the freshness of her feelings was abated, had 
dropped quietly down into a natural way of speaking of these 
things; and Grace, who was quick-witted, soon discovered tnat 
when she did make any allusions to similar objects in Europe, it was, 
always to those that existed in some countr}^ town. A silent con- 
vention existed, therefore, to speak no more on such subjects; or if 
anything was said, it arose incidentally and as inseparable from the 
regular thread ot the discourse. 

When in Wall Street, the carriages stopped and the gentlemen 
alighted. The severity of the weather kept the ladies in the chariot, 
where Grace endeavored to explain things as well as she could to 
her companions. 

“ What are all these people running after so intently?” inquired 
Mile. Viefville, the conversation being in French, but which we 
shall render freely into English, for the sake ot the general reader. 

” Dollars, 1 believe, mademoiselle. Am 1 right, Grace?” 

“ 1 believe you are,” returned Grace, laughing, ” though 1 know 
little more of this part of the town than yourself.” 

” Quelle foule! Is that building filled with dollars, into which 
the gentlemen are now entering? Its steps are crowded.” 

‘‘ That is the Bourse, mademoiselle, and it ought to be well lined, 
by the manner in which some who frequent it live. Cousin Jack 
and Sir George are going into the crowd, 1 see.” 

We will leave the ladies in their seats a few minutes, and accom- 
pany the gentlemen on their way into the exchange.” 

‘‘1 shall now show you. Sir George Templemore, said John 
Effingham, ” what is peculiar to this country, and what, it properly 
improved, it is truly worth a journey across the ocean to see. You 
have been at the Royal Exchange in London, and at the Bourse of 
Paris, but you have never witnessed a scene like that which I am 
about to introduce you to. In Paris, you have beheld the unpleas- 
ant spectacle of women gambling publicly in the funds; but it was 
in driblets, compared to what you will see here.” 

While speaking, John Effingham led the way upstairs into the 
office of one of the most considerable auctioneers. The walls were 
lined with maps, some representing houses, some lots, some streets, 
some entire towns. 

“This is the focus of what Aristabulus Bragg calls the town 
trade,” said John Effingham, when fairly confronted with all these 


70 


HOME AS FOUND. 


wonders. “ Here, then, you may suit yourself with any species of 
real estate that heart can desire. If a villa is wanted, there are a 
dozen. Of farms a hundred are in market; that is merely half a 
dozen streets; and here are towns, of dimensions and value to suit 
purchasers.” 

” Explain this. It exceeds comprehension.” 

“ It is simply what it professes to be. Mr. Hammer, do us the 
favor 1 o step this w^ay. Are you selling to-day?” 

“ Kot much, sir. Only a hundred or tw^o.lbts on this island, and 
some six or eight farms, witli one western village.” 

‘‘ Can you tell us the history of this particular piece of property, 
Mr. Hammer?” 

” With great pleasure, IVlr. Effingham; w'e know you to have 
means, and hope you may be induced to purchase. This was the 
farm of old Yolkert Van Brunt, five years since, oft of which be 
and his family had made a livelihood for more than a centur3% by 
selling milk. Two years since, the sons sold it to Peter Feeler for a 
hundred an acre, or for the total sum of five thousand dollars. The 
next spring Mr. Feeler sold it to John Search, as keen a one as we 
have, for twenty-five thousand. Search sold it at private sale to 
Nathan llise for fifty thousand the next week, and liise had parted 
with it to a company, before the purchase, for a hundred and 
twelve thousand, cash. The map ought to be taken down — for it 
is now eight months since we sold it out in lots, at auction, tor the 
gross sum of three hundred thousand dollars. As we have received 
our commission, we look at that land as out of the market for a 
time.” 

” Have you other property, sir, that affords the same wonderful 
history of a rapid advance in value?” asked the baronet. 

” These walls are covered with maps ot estates in the same pre- 
dicament. Some have risen two or three thousand per cent, within 
five years, and some only a few hundred. There is no calculating 
in the matter— for it is all fancy.” 

” And on what is this enormous increase in value founded? Does 
the town extend to these fields?” 

” It goes much further, sir; that is to say, on paper. In the way 
-of houses, it is still some miles short of them. A good deal depends 
on wiiat you call a thing, in this market. Now, if old Volkerl Yan 
Brunt’s property had been still called a farm, it would have brought 
a farm price; but, as soon as it w^as surveyed into lots, and 
mapped—” 

” Mapped!” 

“ Yes, sir; brought into visible lines, with feet and inches. As 
soon as it w^as properly mapped, it rose to its just value. We have 
a good deal of the bottom ot the sea that brings fair prices in con- 
sequence of being well mapped.” 

Here the gentlemen expressed their sense of the auctioneer ’s polite- 
ness, and retired. 

“We will now go into the salesroom,” said John Effingham, 
“ where 5' on shall judge of the spirit, or energ}’-, as it is termed, 
which at this moment actuates this great nation.” 

Descending, they entered a crowai, where scores were eagerly 
bidding against each other, in the fearful delusion of growing^ rich 


HOME AS FOUND. 


71 

by pusliiDg a fancied value to a point ^till higher. One was pur- 
chasing ragged rocks, another the bottom of rivers, a third a bog, 
and all on the credit of maps. Our two observers remained some 
time silent spectators of the scene. 

“ When 1 first entered that room,” said John Effingham, as they 
left the place, ” it appeared to me to be filled with maniacs, j^ow 
that 1 have been in it several times, the impression is not much, 
altered.” 

” And all those persons are hazarding their means of subsistence 
on the ima.ginary estimate mentioned by the auctioneer?” 

” They are gambling as recklessly as he who places his substance 
on the cast of the die. So completely has the mania seized every 
one, that the obvious truth — a truth which is as apparent as any 
other law of nature — that nothing can be sustained without a foum 
dation, is completely overlooked, and he who should now proclaim 
in this building principles that bitter experience will cause every 
man to feel within the next few years would be happy it he escaped 
being stoned. 1 have witnessed many similar excesses in the way 
of speculation; but never an instarrce as gross, as widespread, and 
as alarming as this.” 

” You apprehend serious consequences, then, tronr the reaction?” 

” In that particular we are better off than older nations, the youth 
and real stamina of the country averting much of the danger; but 1 
anticipate a terrible blow, and that the day is not remote when this 
town will awake to a sense of its illusion. What you see here is 
but a small part of the extravagance that exists; for it pervades the 
whole community in one shape or another. Extravagant issues of 
paper mone}^ inconsiderate credits that commence in Euror'e and 
extend throughout the land, and false notions as to the value of 
their possessions in men who five years since had nothing, has com- 
pletely destroyed the usual balance of things, and money has got to 
be so completely the end of life, that few think of it as a means. 
The history of the world, probably, can not furnish a parallel instance 
of an extensive country ihat is so absolutely under this malign in- 
fluence, as is the fact with our owir at this present instant. All 
principles are swallowed up in the absorbing desire tor gain — 
national honor, permanent security, the ordinary rules of societr", 
law, the constitution, and everything that is usually so dear to men. 
are forgotten, or are perverted in order to sustain this unnatural 
condition of things.” 

” This is not only extraordinary, but it is fearful!” 

” It is both. The entire community is in the situation of a man 
who is in the incipient stages of an exhilarating intoxication, and 
who keeps pouring down glass after glass, in the idle notion that he 
is merely sustaining nature in her ordinary functions. This wide- 
spread infatuation extends from the coast to the extremest frontiers 
of the West; for while there is a justifiable foundation for a good 
deal of this fancied prosperity, the true is so interwoven with the 
false, that none but the most observant can draw the distinction, 
and, as usual, the false predominates.” 

” By your account, sir, the tulip mania of Holland was trifling 
compared to this!” 

” That was the same in principle as our own, but insignificant in 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


TZ 

extent. Could 1 lead you through these streets, and let you into 
the secret ot the interests, hopes, infatuations, and follies that pre- 
vail in the human breast, .you, as a calm spectator, would be aston- 
ished at the manner in which your own species can be deluded. 
But let us move, and something may still occur to ofter an ex- 
ample.” 

‘‘Mr. Effingham— 1 beg pardon— Mr. Effingham,” said a very 
gentlemanly-looking merchant, who was walking about the hall of 
the Exchange, ” what do j^ou think now of our French quarrel?” 

“ 1 have told you, Mr. Bale, all 1 have to say on that siibiect. 
When in France, 1 wrote you that it was not the intention ot the 
French government to comply with the treaty. You have seen this 
opinion justified in the result, you have the declaration of the French 
minister of state, that without an apology from this government, 
the money will not be paid; and 1 have given it as my opinion, that 
the vane on yonder steeple will not turn more readily than all this 
polic}'" will be abandoned, should anything occur in Europe to ren- 
der it necessary, or could the French ministry believe it possible tor 
this country to fight for a principle. 1 hese are my opinions, in all 
their phases, and you may compare them with the facts and judge 
for yourself. 

‘‘ It is all General Jackson, sir — all that monster’s doings. But 
for his message, Mr. Effingham, we should have had the money 
long ago.” 

” But for his message, or some equally decided step, Mr. Bale, 
you would never have it.” 

‘‘ Ah,, my dear sir, 1 know your intentions, but 1 fear you are 
prejudiced against that excellent man, the King of France! Preju- 
dice, Mr. Effingham, is a sad innovator on justice.” 

Here Mr. Bale, shook his head, laughed, and disappeared in the 
crowd, perfectly satisfied that John Effingham was a prejudiced 
man, and that he himself was only liberal and just. 

‘‘ Now, that is a man who wants for neither abilities nor honesty, 
and yet he permits his interests, and the influence of this very specu- 
lating mania, to overshadow all his sense of right, facts plain as 
noonday, and the only principles that can rule a country in safety.” 

” lie apprehends war, and has no desire to believe even facts, so 
long as they serve to increase the danger.” 

‘"Precisely so; for even prudence gets to be a perverted quality 
when men are living under an infatuation like that which now ex- 
ists. These men live like the fool who says there is no death.” 

Here the gentlemen rejoined the ladies, end the carriages drove 
through a succession of narrow and crooked streets that were lined 
with warehouses filled with the products ot the civ’lized world. 

‘‘ Very much of all this is a part of the same lamentable illusion,” 
said John Effingham, as the carriages made their way slowly 
through the encumbered streets. ‘‘ The man who sells his inland 
lots at a profit, secured by credit, fancies himself enriched, and he 
extends his manner of living in proportion. The boy from the 
country becomes a merchant— or wdiat is here called a merchant — 
and obtains a credit in Europe a Inindred times exceeding his means, 
and caters to these fancied \vants; and thus is ever}' avenue of society 
thronged with adventurers, the ephemera of the same widespread 


HOME AS FOL\HI). - 73 

spirit of reckless folly. Millions in value pass out of these streets, 
that go to feed the vanity of those who fancy themselves wealthy, 
because they hold some ideal pledges for the payment of advances 
in price like those mentioned by the auctioneer, and which have 
some such security for the eventual payment as one can find in call- 
ing a thing that is really worth a dollar worth a hundied.” 

“ Are the effects of tnis state of things apparent in your ordinary 
associations?” 

” In everything. The desire to grow suddenly rich has seized on 
all classes. Even wmmen and clergymen are infected, and we exist 
under the active control of the most corrupting of all influences, 
‘ the love of money.’ 1 should despair of the country altogether, 
did 1 not feel certain that the disease is too violent to last, and 
entertain a hope that the season of calm reflection and of repentance 
— that is to follow — wdll be in proportion to its causes.” 

After taking this view of the town, the party returned to Hudson 
Square, where the baronet dined, it being his intention to go to 
Washington on the following day. The leave-taking in the evening 
was kind and friendly; Mr. Effingham, who had a sincere regard 
for his late fellow-traveler, cordially inviting him to visit him in the 
mountains in June. 

As Sir George took his leave, the bells began to ring for a fire. In 
New l ork one getsso accustomed to these alarms, that near an hour 
had passed before any of tlie Effingham family began to reflect on 
the long continuance of the cries. A servant was then sent out to 
ascertain the reason, and his report made the matter more serious 
than usual. 

We believe that in the frequency of these calamities the question 
lies between Constantinople and New York. It is a common occur- 
rence for twenty or thirty buildings to be burned down in the latter 
place, and for the residents of the sano ward to remain in ignorance 
of the circumstance, until enlightened on the fact by the daily prints; 
the constant repetition of the alarms hardening the ear and the feel- 
ings against the appeal. A fire of greater extent than common had 
occurred only a night or two previously to this; and a rumor now 
prevailed that the severity of the w^eather, and the condilion of the 
hose and engines, rendered the present danger double. On hearing 
this intelligence, the Messrs. Effingham wrapped themselves up in 
their overcoats, and wc:it together into the streets. 

” This seems something more than usual, Ned,” said John Effing- 
ham, glancing his eye upward at the lurid vault, athwart which 
gleams of fiery light began to shine; ” the danger is not distant, and 
it seems serious.” 

Following the direction of the current, they soon found the scene 
of the conflagration, which was in the very heart of those masses of 
warehouses, or stores, that John Effingham had commented on so 
lately. A short street of high buildings was already completely in 
flames, and the danger of approaching the enemy, added to the 
froi'.en condition of the apparatus, the exhaustion of the firemen from 
their previous efforts, and the intense coldness of the night, con- 
spired to make the aspect of things in the highest degree alarming. 

The firemen of New York have that superiority over those of other 
places that the veteran soldier obtains over the recruit. But the best. 


HOME AS FOUND. 


74 

troops can be appalled, and on this memorable occasion these cele- 
brated liremen, irom a variety of causes, became for a time little 
more than passive spectators of the terrible scene. 

There was an hour or two when all attempts at checking the con- 
flagration seemed really hopeless, and even the boldest and most 
persevering scarcely knew which way to turn, to be useful. A fail- 
ure of water, the numerous points that required resistance, the con- 
flagration extending in all directions from a common center, by 
means of numberless irregular and narrow streets, and the impossi- 
bility of withstanding the intense heat in the choked passages, soon 
added despair to the other horrors of the scene. 

They who stood near the fiery masses were freezing on one side 
with the Greenland coidol the night, while their bodies were almost 
blistered with the fierce flames on the other. There was something 
frightful in this contest of the elements, nature appearing to con- 
dense the heat within its narrowest possible limits, as if purposely to 
increase its fierceness. The effects were awful; tor entire buildings 
would seem to dissolve at their touch, as the forked flames envel- 
oped them in sheets of fire. 

Every one being afoot, within sound of alarm, though all the 
more vlilgar cries had ceased, as men would deem it mockery to cry 
murder in a battle. Sir George Templemore met his friends on the 
margine of this sea of fire. It was now drawing toward morning, 
and the conflagration was at its height, having already laid waste a 
nucleus of blocks, and it was extending by many lines in every pos- 
sible direction. 

“ Here is a fearful admonition for those who set their hearts on 
riches,” observed Sir George Templemore, recalling the conversa- 
tion of the previous day. “ What, indeed, are the designs of man, 
as compared with the will of Providence?” 

” 1 foresee that this is le commencement de la jin,"' returned John 
Efiingham. ” The destruetion is already so great as to threaten to 
bring down ■with it the usual safeguards against such losses, and 
one pin knocked out of so frail and delicate a fabric, the whole will 
become loose, and fall to pieces.” 

” Will nothing be done to arrest the flames?” 

” As men recover from the panic, their plans 'will improve and 
their energies will revive. The '^vider streets are already reducing 
the fire within more certain limits, and they speak of a favorable 
change of wind. It is thought five Imndred buildings have already 
been consumed, in scarcely half a dozen hours.” 

That E^xhange, which had so lately resembled a bustling temple: 
of IVlammon, was already a dark and sheeted ruin, its marble walls 
being cracked, effaced, tottering, or fallen. It lay on the confines of 
the ruin, and our party was enabled to take their position near it, to 
observe the scene. All in their immediate vicinity was assuming the 
stillness of desolation, while the flashes of fierce light in the dis- 
tance marked the progress of the conflagration. Those '^\'ho knew 
the localities, now began to speak of the natural or accidental bar- 
riers, such as the water, the slips, and the broader streets, as the 
only probable means of arresting the destruction. The crackling of 
the flames grew distant fast, and the cries of the firemen were now 
scarcely audible. 


75 


HOME AS FOUHH. 

<•- 

At this period in the fri^i:htful scene, a party of seamen arrived, 
bearing powder, in readiness to blow up various buildings, in the 
streets that possessed of themselves no sufBcient barriers to the ad- 
vance of the flame. Led by their officers, these gallant fellows, car- 
rying in their arms the means of destruction, moved up steadily to 
the verge of the torrents of fire, and planted their kegs; laying their 
trains with the hardy io difference that practice can alone create, and 
with an intelligence that did infinite credit to their coolness. This 
deliberate' courage was rewarded with complete success, and house 
crumbled to pieces after house, under the dull explosions, happily 
without an accident. 

From this time the flames became less ungovernable, though the 
day dawned and advanced, and another night succeeded before they 
could be said to be got fairly under. Weeks and even months 
passed, however, ere the smoldering ruins ceased to send up smoke, 
the fierce element continuing to burn, like a slumbering volcano, as 
it might be in the bowels of the earth. 

The day that succeeded this disaster was memorable for the re- 
buke it gave the rapacious longing for wealth. Men who had set 
their hearts on gold, and who prided themselves on their posses- 
sions, and on that only, were made to feel its inanity; and they who 
had walked abroad as gods so lately began to experience how utter- 
ly insignificant are the merel.y rich, whefi stripped of their posses- 
sions. Eight hundred buildings, containing fabrics of every kind, 
and the raw material in various forms, had been destroyed, as it 
were, in the twinkling of an eye. 

A faint voice was heard from the pulpit, and there was a moment 
when those who remembered a better state of things began to fancy 
that principles would once more assert their ascendency, and that 
the community would, in a measure, be purified. But this expecta- 
tion ended in disappointment, the infatnation berog too widespread 
and corrupting to be stopped by eventfiis check, and the rebuke was 
reserved for a form that seems to depend on a law of nature, that of 
causing a vice to bring with it its own infallible punishment. 


CHAPTER Vlll. 

First, tell me, have you been at Pisa? 

Shakespeare. 

The conflagration alluded to rather than described in the preced- 
ing chapter threw a gloom over the gayeties of New York— if that 
ever could be properly called gay which was little more than a strife 
in prodigality and parade— and leaves us little more to say of the 
events of the winter. Eve regretted very little the interruption to 
scenes in which she had found no pleasure, however much she la- 
mented the cause; and she and Grace passed the remainder of the 
season quietly cultivating the friendship of such women as Mrs. 
Hawker and'" Mrs. Bloomfield, and devoting hours to the improve- 
ment of theii minds and tastes, without ever again venturing, hoM'- 
ever, within the hallowed precincts of such rooms as those of Mrs. 
Legend. 


76 


HOME AS FOUND. 


One consequence of a state of rapacious infatuation like that we 
have just related, is the intensity of selfishness which smothers all 
recollection of the past, and all just anticipations of the future, by 
condensing life, with its motives and enjoyments, into the present 
moment. Captain Truck, therefore, was soon forgotten, and the 
literati, as that worthy seaman had termed ttie associates of Mrs. Le- 
gend, remained just as vapid, as conceited, as ignorant, as imitative, 
as dependent, and as provincial as ever. 

As the season advanced, our heroine began to look with longings 
toward the country. The town life of an American offers little to 
one accustomed to a town life in older and more permanently regu- 
lated communities; and Eve was already heartily weary of crowded 
and noisy balls (for a few were still aiven), belles, the struggles of an 
uninstructed taste, and a representation in which extravagance was 
so seldom relieved by the elegance and convenience of a condition 
of society in which more attention is paid to the fitness of things. 

The American spring is the least pleasant of its four seasons, its 
character being truly that of “ winter lingering in the lap of May.” 
Mr. EflSngharn, whom the reader will probably suspect by this time to 
be a descendant of a family of the same name that we have had oc- 
casion to introduce into another work, had sent orders to have his 
country residence prepared for the reception of our party; and it was 
with a feeling of delight that Eve stepped on board a steam-boat to 
escnpe from a town that, while it contained so much that is worthy 
of any capital, contains so much more that is unfit for any place, in 
order to breathe the pure air and enjoy the tranquil pleasure of the 
country. Sir George Templemore had returned from his southern 
journey, and made one of the party by express arrangement. 

” Now, Eve,” said Grace Van Cortlandt, as the boat glided along 
the wharves, ” if it were any person but you, I should feel confident 
of having something to show that would extort admiration.” 

“You are safe enough in that respect, for a more imposing object, 
in its way, than this very vessel, eye of mine never beheld. It is 
positively the only thing that deserves the name of magnificent 1 
have yet seen since our return— unless, indeed, it may be magnifi- 
cent projects.” 

“ 1 am glad, dear coz, there is this one magnificent object, then, 
to satisfy a taste so fastidious.” 

As Grace’s little foot moved, and her voice betrayed vexation, the 
whole party smiled; for the whole part}’-, while it felt the justice of 
Eve’s observation, saw the real feeling that was at the bottom of her 
cousin’s remark. Sir George, however, though he could not conceal 
from himself the truth of what had been said, by the one party, and 
the weakness betrayed by the other, had too much sympathy for the 
provincial patriotism of one so young and beautiful not to come to 
the rescue. 

‘‘You should remember. Miss Van Cortlandt,” he said, ‘‘that 
Miss Effingham has not had the advantage yet of seeing tlie Dela- 
ware, Philadelphia, the noble ba 3 's of the South, nor so much that 
is to be found out of the single town of New York.” 

” Very true, and 1 hope yet to see her a sincere penitent for all her 
unpatriotic admissions against her own country, iou have seen the 


HOME AS EOUHD. • 77 

Capitol, Sir Georjjje Templemore; is it< not truly one of the finest edi- 
fices ot the world?” 

‘‘You will except St. 1‘eter’s, surely, my child,” observed Mr. 
JlBSngham, smiling, tor he saw that the baronet was embarrassed to 
give a ready answer. 

“ And the Cathedral at Milan,” said Eve, laughing. 

Etle Louvre?'’ cried Mademoiselle Vietville, whohad some such 
admiration tor everything Parisian as Eve had for everything 
Anierican. 

‘‘ And most especially the north-east corner of the south-west end 
of the north-west wing of Versailles,” said John Effingham, in his 
usual dry manner. 

1 see you are all against me,” Grace rejoined, ‘‘ but 1 hope one 
day to be able to ascertain for myself the comparative merits of 
things. As Nature makes rivers, 1 hope the Hudson, at least, will 
not be found unworthy ot your admiration, gentlemen and ladies.” 

‘‘You are sate enough there, Grace,” observed Mr. Effingham; 
“ for few rivers, perhaps no river, offer so great and so pleasing a 
variety in so short a distance as this.” 

It was a lovely, bland morning in the last week ot May, and the 
atmosphere was already getting the soft hues ot summer, or assum- 
ing the hazy and solemn calm that renders the season so quiet and 
soothing after the fiercer strife of the elements. Under such a sky, 
the Palisadoes in particular looked well; lor though wanting in the 
terrific grandeur of an Alpine nature, and perhaps disproportioned 
to the scenery they adorned, they were bold and peculiar. 

The great velocity of the boat added to the charm ot the passage, 
the scene scarce finding time to pall on the eye; for no sooner was 
one object examined in its outlines, than it was succeeded by an- 
other. 

‘‘ An extraordinary taste is afflicting this country in the way of 
architecture,” said Mr. Effingham, as they stood gazing at the eastern 
shore; ” nothing but a Grecian temple being now deemed a suitable 
residence for a man in these classical times. Yonder is a structure, 
for instance, of beautiful proportions, and at this distance apparent- 
ly oi precious material, and yet. it seems better suited to heathen 
worship than to domestic comfort.” 

” The malady has affected the whole nation,” returned his cousin, 
” like the spirit of speculation. We are passing from one extreme to 
the other, in this as in other things. One such temple well placed 
in a wood might be a pleasant object enough; but to see a river 
lined with them, with children trundling hoops before their doors, 
beef carried into their kitchens, and smoke issuing, moreover, from 
those unclassical objects, chimneys, is too much even tor a high 
taste; one might as w^ell live in a fever. Mr. Aristabulus Bragg, 
wdio is a wag in his way, informs me that there is one town in the 
interior that has actually a market-bouse on the plan of the Par- 
thenon!” 

” 11 Capo di Bow would be a more suitable model for such a 
structure,” said Eve, smiling. ” But 1 think 1 have heard that the 
classical taste ot our architects is anything but rigid.” 

” This was the case, rather than is,” returned John Effingham, 
“ as witness all these temples. The country has made a quick and 


78 


HOME AS FOUND. 


a great pas en avant, in the way ot the fine arts, and the fact shows 
what might be done wdth so ready a people under a suitable direc- 
tion. The stranger who comes among us is apt to hold the art ot 
the nation cheap, but as all things are comparative, let him inquire 
into its state ten years since, and look at it to-day. The fault just 
now is perhaps to consult the books too rigidly, and to trust too 
little to invention; for no architecture, and especially no domestic 
architecture, can ever be above serious reproach, until climate, the 
uses of the edifice, and the situation, are respected as leading con- 
siderations. Nothing can be uglier, per se, than a bwiss cottage, or 
anything more beautiful under its precise circumstances. As re- 
gards these mushroom temples which are the oftspring of Mammon, 
let them be dedicated to whom they may, 1 should exactly reverse 
the opinion and say, that while nothing can be much more beauti- 
ful, per se, nothing can he in worse taste than to pul them where 
they are.” 

“We shall have an opportunity of seeing what Mr. John Effing- 
ham can do in the way of architecture,” said Grace, who loved to 
revenge some ot her fancied wrongs, by turnmg the tables on her 
assailant, ” for 1 understand he has been improving on the original 
labors ot that notorious Palladio, Master Hiram Doolittle!” 

The whole party laughed, and every eye was turned on the 
gentleman alluded to, expecting his answer. 

“You will remember, good people,” answered the accused by 
implication, •“ that my plans were handed over to me from my great 
predecessor, and that they were originally of the composite order. 
It, therefore, the house should turn out to be a little complex and 
mixed, you will do me the justice to remember this important fact. 
At all events, 1 have consulted comfort; and that, 1 would main- 
tain, in the face ot Yitruvius himself, is a suie qua non in domestic 
architecture.” 

“ 1 took a run into Connecticut the other daj^” said Sir George 
Templemore, “ and, at a place called New Haven, 1 saw the com- 
mencement of a taste that bids fair to make a most remarkable 
town. It is true, you cannot expect structures of much pretension 
in the way of cost and magnitude in this country, but, so far as fit- 
ness and forms are concerned, if what I hear be true, and the next 
fifty years do as much in proportion for that little city, as 1 under- 
stand has been done in the last five, it will be altogether a wonder 
in its way. There are some abortions, it is true, but there are also 
some little jewels.” 

The baronet was rew’arded tor this opinion by a smile from Grace, 
and the conversation changed. As the boat approached the mount- 
ains Eve became excited — a very American slate of the system, by 
the way — and Grace still more anxious. 

“The view of that bluff is Italian,” said our heroine, pointing 
down the river at a noble headland ot rock that loomed grandly in 
the soft haze of the tianguil atmosphere. “ One seldom sees a finer 
or a softer outline on the shores of the Mediterranean itself.” 

“ But the Highlands, Eve!” whispered the uneasy Grace. “We 
are entering the mountains.” 

The river narrowed suddenly, and the scenery became bolder, but. 


HOME AS FOUXD. 79 

neither Eve nor her father expressed the rapture that Grace ex- 
pected. 

“1 must confess, Jack,” said the mild, thoughtful Mr. Effing- 
ham, ” that these rocks strike my eyes as much less imposing than 
tormerly. The passage is fine, beyond question, but it is hardly 
grand scenery.” 

‘‘You never uttered a juster opinion, Ned, though after your eye 
loses some of the forms of the Swiss and Italian lakes, and of the 
shores of Italy, you will think better of these. The Highlands are 
remarkable for their surprises, rather than for their grandeur, as 
we shall presently see. As to the latter, it 'is an affair of feet and 
inches, and is capable of arithmetical demonstration. We have 
often been on lakes, beneath beetling cliffs, of from three to six 
thousand feet in height; whereas here, the greatest elevation 
is materially less than two. But, Sir George Templemore, and 
you, Miss Effingham, do me the favor to combine your cunning, 
and tell me wdience this stream cometh, and whither we are to go?” 

The boat had now approached a point where the river was nar- 
rowed to a width not much exceeding a quarter of a mile, and in 
that direction in which it was steering, the water seemed to become 
still more contracted until they were lost in a sort of bay that ap- 
peared to be closed by high hills, through which, however, there 
were traces of something like a passage. 

“ The land in that direction looks as if it had a ravine-like en- 
trance,” said the baronet; “and yet it is scarcely possible that a 
stream like this can flow there!” 

“If the Hudson truly passes through those mountains,” said 
Eve, “ 1 will concede all in its favor that you can ask, Grace.” 

“ Where else can it pass?” demanded Grace exultingly. 

“ Sure enough— -1 see no other place, and that seems insufficient.” 

The two strangers to the river now looked curiously around them 
in every direction. Behind them was a broad and lake-like basin, 
through which they had just passed; on the left, a barrier of pre- 
oipitous hills, the elevation of which was scarcely less than a thou- 
sand feet; on their right, a high but broken country, studded with 
villas, farm-houses, a"nd hamlets; and in their front the deep but 
equivocal bay mentioned. 

“ 1 see no escape!” cried the baronet gayly, “ unless indeed it be 
by returning.” 

A sudden and broad sheer of the boat caused it to turn to the left, 
and then they whirled round an angle of the precipice, and found 
themselves in a reach of tlie river between steep declivities, running 
at right angles to their former course. 

“ This is one of the surprises ot which 1 spoke,” said John Effing- 
ham, “ and which render the Highlands so unique; tor, while the 
Rhine is very sinuous, it has nothing like this.” 

The other travelers agreed in extolling this and man}’- similar 
features ot the scenery, and Grace was delighted; for, warm-hearted, 
affectionate, and true, Grace loved her country like a relative or a 
friend, and took an honest pride in hearing its praises. The patriot- 
ism of Eve, if a word' of a meaning so lofty can be applied to feel- 
ings of this nature, was more discriminating from necessity, her 
tastes having been formed in a higher school, and her means ot 


80 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


comparison being so much more ample. At West Point they" 
stopped for tlie night, and here everybody was in honest raptures; 
Grace, who had often visited the place before, being actually the 
least so of the whole party. 

“ Now, Eve, 1 know that you do love your country,” she said, 
as she slipped an arm affectionately through that of her cousin. 
‘‘ This is feeling and speaking like an American girl, and as Eve 
Effingham should ! ” 

Eve laughed, but she had discovered that the provincial feeling: 
was so strong in Grace that its discussion would probably do no 
good. She dwelt, therefore, with sincere eloquence on the beau- 
ties of the place, and for the first time since they had met her 
cousin felt as if there was no longer any point of dissension between 
them. 

The following morning was the first of June, and it w’as another 
of those drowsy, dreamy days that so much aid a landscape. The 
party embarked in the first boat that came up, and as they entered 
Newburg Bay the triumph of the river was established. This is a 
spot, in sooth, that has few equals ia any region, though Eve still 
insisted that the excellence of the view was in its softness rather 
than in its grandeur. The country-houses, or boxes, for few could 
claim to be much more, were neat, well placed, and exceedingly 
numerous. The heights around the town of Newburg, in partic- 
ular, were fairly dotted with them, though IMr. Effingham shook 
his head as he saw one Grecian temple appear after another. 

“ As we recede from the influence of the vulgar architects,” he 
said. ‘‘ we find imitation taking the place of instruction. Many of 
these buildings are obviously disproportioned, and then, like vulgar 
pretension of any sort, Grecian architecture produces less pleasure 
than even Dutch.” 

“lam surprised at discovering how little of a Dutch character 
remains in this tState,” said the baronet; ‘‘ 1 can scarcely trace that 
people in anything, yet, 1 believe, they had the molding of your 
society, having carried the colony through its intanc 3 ^” 

” When you know us better 3 ’^ou will be surprised at discovering 
how little of anything remains a dozen years,” returned John 
Effingham. “ Our towns pass away in generations like their people^ 
and even the names of a place undergo periodical mutations, as 
well as everything else. It is getting to be a predominant feeling in 
the American nature, 1 fear, to love change.” 

‘‘ But, Cousin Jack, do j^ou not overlook causes, in j^our censure? 
That a nation advaneing as fast as this in wealth and numbers,, 
should desire better structures than its fathers had either the means 
or the taste to build, and that names should change with persons, 
are both quite in rule.” 

“ All very true, though it does not account for the peculiarity 1 
mean. Take Templeton, for instance; this little place has not es- 
sentially increased in numbers within my memory, and yet fully one 
halt its names are new. When he reaches his own home, your 
father will not know even the names of one half his neighbois. Not 
only will he meet with new faces, but he will find new feelings,, 
new opinions in the place of traditions that he may love, an indiffer- 
ence to everything but the present moment, and even those who may 


HOME AS EOUHD. 81 

have better feelings, and a wish to cherish all that belongs to the 
holier sentiments ot man, afraid to utter them, lest they meet with 
no sympathy.” 

” JNo cats, as Mr. Bragg would say.” 

‘‘Jack is one who never paints lean," said Mr. EfSngham. 
“ 1 should be very sorry to believe that a dozen short years can have 
made all these essential changes in my neighborhood.” 

‘‘A dozen years, Ned! fou name an age. Speak of three or 
four, if you wish to find anything in America where you leHitt 
The whole country is in such a cWstant state of mutation, that 1 
can only liken it to the game of children, in which, as one quits 
his corner another runs into it, and he that finds no corner to get 
into, is the laughing-stock of the others. Fancy that dwelling the 
residence of one man from childhood to old age; let him then quit 
it for a year or two, and on his return he would find another in pos- 
session, who would treat him ais an impertinent intruder, because he 
had been absent two years. An American ‘ always,’ in the way of 
usages, extends no further back than eighteen months. In short, 
everything is condensed into the present moment; and services, char- 
acter, for evil as well as good unhappily, and all other things cease 
to have weight, except as they influence the interests ot the day.” 

” This is the coloring of a professed cynic,” observed Mr. Effing- 
ham, smiling. 

” But the law, Mr. John Effingham,” eagerly inquired the baronet 
— ‘‘surely the law tvould not permit a stranger to intrude in this 
manner on the rights of an owner.” 

‘‘ The law-books would do him that friendly office, perhaps, but 
what is a precept in the face of practices so ruthless! ‘ Les absents 
out toujours tort,' is a maxim of peculiar application in America.” 

” Property is as secure in this country as in any other. Sir George; 
and you will make allowances for the humors of the present anno- 
tator.” 

‘‘Well, well, Ned; 1 hope you will find everything coiileur de 
rose, as you appear to expect, 'lou will get quiet possession ot your 
house, it is true; for 1 have put a Cerberus in it that is quite equal 
to his task, difficult as it may be, and who has quite as much relish 
for a bill of costs as any squatter can have for a trespass; but with- 
out some such guardian of your rights, 1 would not answer for it 
that you would not be compelled to sleep in the highway.” 

” 1 trust Sir George Templemore knows how to make allowances 
for Mr. John Effingham’s pictures,” cried Grace, unable to refrain 
from expressing her discontent any longer. 

A laugh succeeded, and the beauties ot the river again attracted 
their attention. As the boat continued to ascend, Mr. Effingham 
triumphantly affirmed that the appearance of things more than 
equaled his expectations, while both Eve and the baronet declared 
that a succession of lovelier landscapes could hardly be presented to 
the eye. 

” Whited sepulchers!” ihutlered John Effingham. ‘‘ All outside. 
Wait until you get a view of the deformity within.” 

As the boat approached Albany, Eve expressed her satisfaction in 
still stronger terms, and Grace was made perfectly happy by heap 


82 


HOME AS FOUND. 


Ing her and Sir George declare that the place entirely exceeded their 
expectations. 

“ 1 am glad to find, Eve, that you are so fast recovering your 
American feelings,” said her beautiful cousin, after one of those ex- 
pressions of agreeable disappointment, as they were seated at a late 
dinner in an inn. ” You have at last found words to praise the ex- 
terior of Albany; and 1 hope, by the time we return, you will be dis- 
posed to see New York with different eyes.” 

” 1 expected to see a capital in New Y’ork, Grace, and in this 1 
have been grie^ousl}^ disappointed. Instead of finding the tastes, 
tone, conveniences, architecture, streets, churches, shops, and society 
of a capital, 1 found a huge expansion of commonplace things, a 
commercial town, and the most mixed and least regulated society 
that 1 had ever met with. Expecting so much, where so little was 
found, disappointment was natural. But in Albany, although a 
political capital, 1 knew the nature of the government too well to 
expect more than a provincial town; and in this respect 1 have found 
one much above the level of similar places in other parts of the 
world. 1 acknowledge that Albany has as much exceeded my ex- 
pectations in one sens"e, as New York has fallen short of them in an- 
other.” 

” In this simple fact; Sir George Templemore,” said Mr. Effing- 
ham, ” you may read the real condition of the country. In all that 
requires something more than usual, a deficiency; in all that is 
deemed an average, better than common. The tendency is to raise 
everything that is elsewhere degraded to a respectable height, when 
there commences an attraction of gravitation that draws all toward 
the center — a little closer too, than could be wished, perhaps.” 

” Ay, ay, Ned! This is very pretty, with j'our attractions and 
gravitations; but wait and judge for yourself of this average, of 
which you now speak so complacently.” 

“Nay, John, 1 borrowed the imace from you. If it be not ac- 
curate, 1 shall hold you responsible for its defects.” 

“They tell me,” said Eve, “ that all American villages are the 
towns in miniature; children dressed in hoops and wigs. Is this so, 
Grace?” 

“A little. There is too much desire to imitate the towns, per- 
haps, and possibly loo little feeling for country life.” 

“ This is a very natural consequence, after all, of people’s living 
•entirely in such places,” observed Sir George Templemore. “ One 
sees much of this on the continent of Europe, because the country 
population is purely a country population; and less of it in England 
perhaps, because those who are at the head of society consider"! own 
and country as very distinct things.” 

'‘La campagne est w'aiment cUlicieuse en Amerique," exclaimed 
Mademoiselle Yiefville, in whose eyes the whole country was little 
more than campagne. 

The next morning our travelers proceeded by the way of Schenec- 
tady, whence they ascended the beautiful valley of the Mohawk, by 
means of a canal-boat, the cars that now rattle along its length not 
havirifif commenced their active flights at that time. M it.h the scenery 
every one was delighted; tor white it differed essentially from that 


HOME AS FOUis'D. 83 

the party had passea through the previous day, it was scarcely less 
beautiful. 

At a point where the necessary route diverged from the direction 
of the canal, carriages of Mr. Effingham’s w'ere in readiness to re- 
ceive the travelers, and here they were also favored by the presence 
of Mr. Bragg, who fancied such an attention might be agreeable to 
the young ladies as well as to his employer. 


CHAPTEK IX. 

Tell me, where is fancy bred — 

Or in the heart, or in the head? 

How begot, how nourished? 

Song in Shakespeare. 

The travelers were several hours ascending into the mountains, 
by a country load that could scaicely be surpassed by a French wheel- 
track of the same sort; for Mademoiselle Viefville protested twenty 
times in the course ot the morning, that it was a thousand pities Mr. 
Effingham hfid not the privilege of the corvee, that he might cause 
the approach of his terres to be kept in better condition. At length 
the}" reached the summit— a point where the waters began to flow 
south— when the road became tolerably level. From this time their 
progress became more rapid, and they continued to advance two or 
three hours longer at a steady pace. 

Arislabulus now informed his companions that, in obedience to 
instructions from John Effingham, he had ordered the coachman to 
take a road that led a little from the direct line ot their journey, and 
that they had now been traveling for some time on the more ancient 
route to Templeton. 

“ 1 was aware of this,” said Mr. Effingham, “ though ignorant of 
the reason. We are on the great western turnpike.” 

‘‘ Gertainl.y, sir, and all according to Mr. John’s request. There 
would have been a great saving in distance, and, agreeably to my 
notion, in horse-flesh, had we quietly gone down the banks of the 
lake.” 

” Jack will explain his own meaning,” returned Mr. Effingham, 
” and he has stopped the other carriage, and alighted with Sir George 
—a hint, 1 fancy, that we are to follow their example.” 

Sure enough the second carriage w'as now stopped, and Sir George 
hastened to open its door. 

” Mr. John Effiughayi, who acts as cicerone,” cried the baronet, 
“insists that every one shall put piedd terre at this precise spot, 
keeping the important reason still a secret in the recesses of his own 
bosom.” 

The ladies complied, and the carriages were ordered to proceed 
with the domestics, leaving the resl of the travelers by themselves, 
apparently in the heart ot the forest. 

“It is to be hoped, mademosielle, there are no banditti in 
America,” said Eve, as thhy looked around them at the novel situa- 
tion in which they were placed, apparently by a pure caprice of her 
cousin. 

“ Ou des smivages,’" returned the governess, who, in spite of her 


HOME AS FOUMD. 


84 

ordinary intelligence and great good sense, had several times that 
day cast uneasy and stolen glances into the bits of dark wood they 
had occasionally passed. 

“ 1 will insure your purses and scalps, mesdmnes^' cried John 
Effingham, gayly, “ on condition that you will follow me implicitly; 
and by way of pledge for my faith, I solicit the honor of supporting 
Mademoiselle Viefville on this unworthy arm.” 

The governess laughingly accepted the conditions. Eve ^ook the 
arm of her father, and Bir George offered his to Grace; Aristabulus, 
to his surprise, being left to walk entirely alone. It struck him, 
however, as so singularly improper that a young lady should be sup- 
ported on such an occasion by her own father, that he frankly and 
gallantly proposed to Mr. Effingham to relieve him of his burden, 
an offer that was declined with quite as much distinctness as it was 
made. 

” 1 suppose Cousin Jack has a meaning to his melodrama,” said 
Eve, as they entered the forest, ‘‘ and 1 dare say, dearest father, that 
you are behind the scenes, though 1 perceive determined secrecj^ in 
3 mur face.” 

” John may have a cave to show us, or some tree of extraordinary 
height; such things existing in the country.” 

“We are very confiding, mademoiselle, for 1 detect treachery in 
every face around us. Even Miss Van Cortlandt has the air of a 
conspirator, and seems to be in league with something or somebody. 
Pray heaven it be not with wolves.” 

“ Des Imips !'" exclaimed Mademoiselle Viefville, stopping short, 
with a mien so alarmed as to excite a general laugh — “ esi-ce qxCil y 
a des loups et des sangliers dans cette foret?” 

“No, mademoiselle,” returned her companion — “this is only 
barbarous America, and not civilized France. Were we in le de- 
pariement de la Seme, we might apprehend some such dangers, but 
being merely in the mountains of Otsego, we are reasonably safe.” 

“ Je Vespere,’’' murmured the governess, as she reluctantly and dis- 
trustfully proceeded, glancing her eyes incessantly to the right and 
left. The path now became steep and rather difficult; so much so, 
indeed, as to indispose them all to conversation. It led beneath the 
branches of lofty pines, though there existed on every side of them 
pi oofs of the ravages man had commiited in that noble forest. At 
length they were compelled to stop for bieath, after having ascended 
considerably above the road they had left. 

“ 1 ought to have said that the spot where we entered on this path 
is memorable in the family history,” obs^ved John Effingham to 
Eve— “ for it was the precise spot where one of our predecessors 
lodged a shot in the shoulder of another. ” 

“Ihen 1 know precisely where w^eare!” cried our heroine, 
“ though 1 cannot yet imagine why we are led into this forest, un- 
less it be to visit some spot hallowed byadeedof Natty Biimppo’s!” 

“Time will solve this mystery, as well as all others. Let us 
proceed.” 

Again they ascended, and after a few more minutes of trial they 
reached a sort of table-land, and drew near an opening in the trees, 
where a small circle had evidently been cleared of its wood, though 
it was quite small and untilled. Eve looked curiouslv about her, as 


HOME AS FOIi^HD. 85 

all the others to whom the place was novel, and she was lost in 
-doubt. 

“ There seems to he avoid beyond us,” said the baronet. ” 1 
rather thinK Mr. John Effingham has led us to the verge of a view.” 

At this suggestion the party moved on in a body, and were well 
rewarded for the toil of the ascent, by a coup d'aul that was almost 
Swiss in character and beauty. 

“Now do 1 know where we are,” exclaimed Eve, clasping her 
hands in rapture. ” This is the ‘ Vision,’ and yonder, indeed, is 
our blessed home.” 

The whole artifice of the surprise was exposed, and aftei the first 
burst of pleasure had subsided, all to whom the scene was novel felt 
that they would not have missed this piquante introduction to the 
Valley of the Busquehanna on any account. That the reader may 
understand the cause of so much delight, and why John Effingham 
had prepared this scene for his friends, we shall stop to give a short 
description of the objects that met the eyes of the travelers. 

It is known that they were in a small open spot in a forest, and 
on the verge of a precipitous mountain. The trees encircled them 
on every side but one, and on that lay the panorama, although the 
tops of tall pines, that grew in lines almost parallel to the declivity, 
rose nearly to a level with the eye. Hundreds of feet beneath them, 
directly in front, and stretching leagues to the right, was a lake im- 
bedded in woods and hills. On one side next the travelers a fringe 
of forest broke the line of water; tree-tops that intercepted the view 
of the shores; and on the other, high broken hills, or low mountains, 
rather, that were covered with barms, beautitullj’’ relieved by patches 
of wood, in a way to resemble the scenery of a vast park or a royal 
pleasure-ground, limited the landscape. High valleys lay among 
these uplands, and in every direction comfortable dwellings dotted 
the fields. The dark hues of the evergreens, with which all the 
heights near the water were shaded, M^ere in soft contrast to the 
livelier green of the other foliage, while the meadows and pastures 
were luxuriant with a verdure unsurpassed by that of England. 
Bays and points added to the exquisite outline of the glassy Jake on 
this shore, while one of tlie former withdrew toward the northwest, 
in a w*ay to leave the eye doubtful whetber it w^as the termination of 
the transparent sheet or not. Toward the south, bold, varied, but 
cultivated hills, also bounded the view, all teeming with the fruits 
ot human labor, and yet all relieved by pieces of wood in the w'ay 
tilready mentioned, so as to give the entire region the character of 
park scenery. A wide, deep, even valley commenced at the south* 
ern end of the lake, or nearly opposite to the stand of our tiavelers, 
and stretched aw\ay south, until concealed by a curvature in the 
ranges of the mountains. Like all the mountain-tops, this valley 
was verdant, peopled, wooded in places, though less abundant than 
the hills, and teeming with signs ot life. Koads. wound through its 
peaceful retreats, and might be traced w'orking their way along the 
glens, and up the weary ascents of the mountains, for miles in every 
direction. 

At the northern termination of this lovely valley, and immediately 
on the margin of the lake, lay tlie village of Templeton, immediately 
under the eyes of the party. *The distance, in an air-line, from their 


80 - 


HOME AS FOUND. 


stand to the center ot the dwellings, could not be much less than a 
mile, but the air was so pure, and the day so calm, that it did not 
seem so fai. The children, and even the dogs, were seen running 
about the streets, while the shrill cries of boys at their gambols as- 
cended distinctly to the ear. 

As this was the Templeton of the Pioneers, and the progress of 
society during halt a century is connected with the circumstances, 
M^e shall give the reader a more accurate notion ot its present state 
than can be obtained from incidental allusions. We undertake the 
office more readily because this is not one of those places that shoot 
up in a day, under the unnatural efforts of speculation, or which, 
favored by peculiar advantages in the way ot trade, becomes a pre- 
cocious city while the stumps still stand in its streets; but a sober 
country town, that has advanced steadily pan passu witli the sur- 
rounding country, and offers a fair specimen of the more regular 
advancement of the whole nation in its progress toward civilization. 

The appearance ot Templeton, as seen from the height where it 
is now exhibited to the reader, was generally beautiful and map-like. 
There might be a dozen streets, principally crossing each olher at 
right angles, though sufficiently relieved from this precise delinea- 
ion to prevent a starched formality. Perhaps the gi eater pmt of 
the buildings were painted wliite, as is usual in the smaller Ameri- 
can towns; though a better taste was growing in the place, and 
many of the dAvellings had the graver and chaster hues of the gray 
stones ot which they were built. A general air of neatness and com- 
fort pervaded the place, it being as unlike a continental European 
town, south of the Rhine, in this respect, as possible, if indeed we 
except the picturesque bourgs ot Switzerland, In England, Tem- 
pleton would be termed a small market town, so far as size was 
concerned; in France, a large bourg; while in America it was, in 
common parlance and legal appellation, styled a village. 

Ot the dwellings of the place, f ull}'- tvi enty were of a quality that 
denoted ease in the condition ot their occupants, and bespoke the 
habits of those accustomed to live in a manner superior to the oz 
polloi ot the human race. Of these, some six or eight had small 
lawns, carriage-sweeps, and the other similar appliances ot houses 
that were not deemed unworthy of the honor ot bearing names ot 
their own. No less than five little steeples, towers, or belfries, for 
neither word is exactly suitably to the architectural prodigies we 
wish to describe, rose above the roofs, denoting the sites of the same 
number of places ot w^orship; an American village usually exhibit- 
ing as many of these proofs of liberty of conscience — caprices of 
conscience would perhaps be a better term— as dollars and cents will 
by any process render attainable. Several light carriages, such as 
were suitable to a mountainous country, were passing to and fro in 
the streets; and here and there a single horse-vehicle was fastened 
before the door ot a shop or a lawyer's office, denoting the presence 
of some customer or client from among the adjacent hills. 

Templeton was not sufficienlly a thoroughfare to possess one of 
those monstrosities, a modern American tavern, or a structure whose 
roof should overtop that of all its neighbors. Still its inns w^ere of 
respectable size, well piazzaed, to use a word ot our own invention, 
and quite enough frequented. 


HOME AS FOUND. 


87 

Near the center of the place, in grounds of rather limited extent, 
still stood that model of the composite order, which owed its exist- 
.ence to the combined knowledge and taste, in the remoter ages of 
tlie region, of Mr. Richard Jones and Mr. Hiram Doolittle. We 
will not say that it had been modernized, for the very reverse was the 
effect, in appearance at least; but it had since undergone material 
changes under the more instructed intelligence of John Effingham. 

This building was so conspicuous by position and size, that as 
soon as they had taken in glimpses of the entire landscape, which 
was not done without constant murmurs of pleasure, every eye be- 
came fastened on it, as the focus of interest. A lo.ng and common 
silence denoted how general was this feeling, and the whole party 
took seats on stumps and fallen trees before a syllable was utterea 
•after the building had attracted their gaze. Aiistabulus alone per- 
mitteil his look to wander, and he was curiousl}^ examining the 
countenance of Mr. Effingham, near whom he sat, with a loiTging 
to discover whether the expression was that of approbation or of 
disapprobation of the fruits of his cousin’s genius. 

“ Mr. John Effingham has considerably regenerated and revivified, 
not to say transmogrified, the old dwelling,” he said, cautiously 
using terms that might leave his own opinion of the changes doubt- 
ful. ” The work of his hand has excited some speculation, a good 
deal of incpiiiy, and a little conversation throughout the country. It 
has almost produced an excitement 1” 

” As my house came to me from my father,” said IMr. Effingham, 
across whose mild and handsome face a smile was gradually steal- 
ing, ” I know its history, and when called on for an explanation of 
its singularities, could refer all to the composite order. But 5mu, 
Jack, have supplanted all this by a st3de of j'our own, for which 1 
shall be compelled to consult the authoritiesjor explanations.” 

” Do 5'ou dislike my taste, Ke;!? To my eye, now, the structure 
has no bad appearance from this spot.” 

“Fitness and coinfcrt are indispensable requisites for domestic 
architecture, to use your own argument. Are you quite sure that 
yonder castellated roof, for instance, is quite suited to the deep 
snows of these mountains?” 

John Effingham whistled, and endeavored to look unconcerned; 
for he well knew that the very first winter had demonstrated the 
unsuitableness of his plans for such a climate. He had actually felt 
disposed to cause the whole to be altered privately at his own ex- 
pense; but, besides feeling certain his cousin would resent a liberty * 
that inferred his indisposition to pay for his own buildings, he had 
-a reluctance to admit, in the face of the whole country, that he had 
made so capital a mistake, in a branch of art on which he had prided 
himself rather more than common; almost as much as his predeces- 
.sor in the occupation, Mr. Richard Jones. ’ 

“ If you are not pleased with 3’our own dwelling, Ned,” he an- 
swered, “ you can hav^ at least the consolation of looking at some 
of 3’-our neighbors’ houses, and of perceiving that they are a great 
deal worse off. Of all abortions of this sort, to my taste, a Grecian 
abortion is the worst. Mine is only Gothic, and that, too, in a style 
so modest, that I should think it might pass unmolested.” 

It was so unusual to see .lotin Effingham on the defensive, that 


88 


HOME AS FOUHI). 


the whole party smiled, while Aristabulus, who stood in salutary 
fear of his caustic longue, both smiled and wondered. 

“ Nay, do not mistake me, John,” returned the proprietor of the 
edifice under discussion, ” It is not your taste that 1 call in ques- 
tion, but your provision against the seasons. In the way of mere 
outward show, I really think you deserve high praise; for you have 
transformed a very ugly dwelling into one that is almost handsome, 
in despite of proportions and the necessity of regulating the altera- 
tions by prescribed limits. Still, 1 think there is a little of the com- 
posite left about even the exterior.” 

” 1 hope, Cousin Jack, you have not innovated on the interior,” 
cried Eve; ” for 1 think 1 shall remember that, and nothing is more 
pleasant than the cattism of seeing objects that you remember in 
childhood. Pleasant. 1 mean, to those whom the mania of muta- 
tions has no affected.” 

” Do not be alarmed. Miss Effingham,” replied her kinsman, 
with a pettishness of manner that was altogether extraoi dinar}' in a 
man whose mien, in common, was so singularly composed and mas- 
culine; ‘‘you will find all that you knew when a kitten, in its 
proper place. 1 could not rake together again the ashes of Queen 
Dido, which were scattered to the tour winds of heaven, I fear; nor 
could 1 discover a reasonably good bust of Homer; but respectable 
substitutes are provided, and some of them have the great merit of 
puzzling all beholders to tell to whom they belong, which 1 believe 
was the great characteristic of most of Mr. Jones’s inventions.” 

” 1 am glad to see. Cousin Jack, that you have at least managed 
to give a very respectable ‘ cloud color ’ to the whole house.” 

” Ay, it lay between that and an invisible green,” the gentleman 
answered, losing his momentary spleen in his natural love of the 
ludicrous; ” but finding that the latter would be onlly too conspicu- 
ous in the droughts that sometimes prevail in this climate, 1 settled 
down into the yellowish drab. That is, indeed, not unlike some of 
the richer volumes of the clouds.” 

“ On the whole, 1 think you are fairly entitled, as Steadfast 
Dodge, Esquire, would say, to ‘ the meed of our thanks.’ ” 

” What a lovely spot!” exclaimed Mr. Effingham, who had al- 
ready ceased to think of his own dwelling, and whose eye was 
roaniing over the soft landscape, athwart which the luster of a June 
noontide was tin owing its richest glories. ‘‘This is truly a place 
where one might fancy repose and content were to be found for the 
evening of a troubled life.” 

‘‘ Indeed, 1 have seldom looked upon a more bewitching scene,” 
answered the baronet. ‘‘ The lakes of Cumberland will scarce com- 
pete with this!” 

‘‘ Or that of Brienz, or Lungeren, or Nemi,” said Eve, smiling 
in a way that the other understood to be a hit at his nationality. 

‘‘ C’est chcmnant murmured Mademoiselle Viefville. ” On 
pense d Veternite dans untelcalme!” 

‘‘The farm you can see lying near 3 'onder wood, Mr. Effing- 
ham,” coolly observed Aristabulus, ‘‘ sold last spring for thirty 
dollars to the acre, and was bought tor twenty the summer before!” 

” (Jhacun d son gout!'’ .said Eve. 

‘‘ And yet 1 fear this glorious scene is marred by the envy, rapac- 


HOME AS FOUND. 


89 

5ty, uncharitableness, and all the other evil passions of man!” con- 
linued the more philosophical Mr. Effingham. “Perhaps it were 
better as it was so lately, when it lay in the solitude and peace of 
the wilderness, the resort of birds and beasts.” 

“"Who prey on each other, dearest father, just as the worst of 
our own species prey on their fellows.” 

“ True, child — true. And yet 1 never gaze on one of Ihese scenes 
of holy calm, without wishing that the great tabernacle of nature 
might be tenanted only by those who have a feeliug for its perfec- 
tion.” 

“ Do you see the lady,” said Aristabulus, “ that is just coming 
out on the lawn, in front of the ‘Wigwam’?” for that was the 
name John Effingham had seen fit to give the altered and amended 
abode. “ Here, Miss Effingham, more m a line with the top of the 
pine beneath us.” 

“ 1 see the person you mean; she seems to be looking in this di- 
rection.” 

“You are quite right, miss. She knows that we are to stop on 
the ‘Vision,’ and no doubt sees us. That lady is your father’s 
cook, Miss Effingham, and is thinking of the late breakf£.st that has 
been ordered to be in readiness against our arrival.” 

Eve concealed her amusement — for, by this time she had discov- 
ered that Mr. Bragg had a way peculiar to himself, or at least to his 
class, of using many of the commoner words of the English lan- 
guage, It would perhaps be expecting too much of Sir George 
Templemore not to expect him to smile on such an occasion. 

“ Ah!” exclaimed Aristabulus, pointing toward the lake, across 
•which several skiffs were stealing, some in one direction, and some 
in another — “there is a boat out that 1 think must contain the 
poet.” 

“ Poet!” repeated John Effingham. “ Have we reached that pass 
at Templeton?” 

“Lord, Mr. John Effingham, you must have very contracted 
notions of the- place, it you think a poet a great novelty in it. Why 
sir, we have caravans of wild beasts nearly every summer!” 

“ This is, indeed, a step in advance, of which 1 was ignorant. 
Here then, in a region that so lately was tenanted by beasts of prey, 
beasts are already brought as curiosities. You perceive the state of 
the country in this fact. Sir George Templemore.” 

“ 1 do, indeed; but 1 should like to hear from Mr. Bragg what 
sort of animals are in these caravans?” 

“ All "Sorts, from monkeys to elephants. The last had a rhinoo- 
eros.” 

“ Rhinoceros! Why, tbere was but one, lately, in all Europe. 
Neither the Zoological Gardens nor the Jardin des Plantes had a 
rhinoceros! 1 never saw but one, and that was in a caravan at 
Rome, that traveled between St. Petersburg and Naples.” 

“ Well, sir, we have rhinoceroses here; and monkeys, and zebras, 
and poets, and painfers| and congressmen, and bishops, and gov- 
ernors, and all other sorts of dreatures.” 

“ And who may the particular poet be, Mr. Bragg,” Eve asked, 
“ who honors Templeton with his presence just at this moment?” 

“ That is more than 1 can tell you, miss; for though some eiglit 


90 


HOME AS FOUND. 


or ten of us have clone little else than try to discover his name foe 
the last week, we have not got even as far as that one fact. He and 
the gentleman who travels with him are both uncommonly close on 
such matters, though I think we have some as good catechizers in. 
Templeton as can be found anywhere within fifty miles of us.” 

” There is another gentleman with him; do you suspect them both 
of being poets?” 

” Oh, no, miss, the other is the waiter of the poet; that we know, 
as he serves him at dinner, and otherwise superintends his concerns, 
such as brushing his clothes, and keeping his room in order.” 

” This is being in luck tor a poet, for they are of a class that are 
a little apt to neglect the decencicjs. May 1 ask why you suspect 
the master of being a poet, if the man be so assiauous?” 

” Why, what else can he be? In the first place, Miss Effingham,, 
he has no name.” 

” That is a reason in point,” said John Effingham; ‘‘very few' 
poets having names.” 

” Then he is out on the lake half his time, gazing up at the ‘ Si- 
lent Pine,’ or conversing with the ‘ Speaking Rocks,’ or drinking at 
the ‘ Fairy Spring.’ ” 

** All suspicious,- certainl.y; especially the dialogue with the rocks 
though not absolutely conclusive.” 

‘‘ But, Mr. John Effingham, the man does not take his food like 
other people. He rises early, and is out on the water or up in the 
forest all the morning, and then returns to eat his breakfast in the 
middle of the forenoon; he goes into the woods again, or on the 
lake, and comes back to dinner, just as 1 take my tea.” 

” This settles the matter. Any man who presumes to do all this, 
Mr. Bragg, deserves to be called by some harder name even than 
that of a poet. Pray, sir, how long has this eccentric person been a 
resident of Templeton?” 

” Hist — there he is, as 1 am a sinner; and it was not he and the 
other gentleman that were in the boat.” 

The rebuked manner of Aristabulus and the dropping of his 
voice induced the whole party to look in the direction of his eye, 
and sure enough a gentleman approached them, in the dress a man 
of the world is apt to assume in the country, an attire of itself that 
was sufficient to attract comment in a place where the general desire 
was I o be as much like town as possible, though it was sufliciently 
neat and simple. He came from the forest, along the table-land 
that crowned the mountain for some distance, following one of the 
footpaths that the admirers of the beautiful landscape have- made all 
over that pleasant wood. As he came out into the cleared spot, see- 
ing it already in possession of a party, he bowed, and was passing 
on with a delicacy that Mr. Bragg would be apt to deem eccentric, 
■when suddenly stopping, he gave a look of intense and eager inter- 
est at the whole party, smiled, advanced rapidly nearer, and discov- 
ered his entire person. 

‘‘ 1 ought not to be surprised,” he said, as he advanced so near as 
to render doubt any longer impossible, ‘‘for 1 knew you were ex- 
pected, and indeed waited tor your arrival, and yet this meeting has^ 
been so unexpected as to leave me scarcely in possession of my 
faculties.” 


HOME AS EOUKD. 


91 

It is needless to dwell upon the warmth' and number of the greet- 
ings. To the surpiise of Mr. Bragg, his poet was not only known 
hut evidently much esteemed by all the party, with the exception ot 
Miss Van Cortlandt, to whom he was cordially presented by the 
name ot Mr. Powis. Eve managed, by an eftort'^of womanly pride, 
to suppress the violence of her emotions, and the meeting passed off 
as one of mutual surprise and pleasure, without any exhibition of 
unusual feeling to attract comment. 

“We ought to express our wonder at finding you here before us, 
my dear young friend,” said Mr. Efiingham, still holding Paul’s 
hand affectionately between his own; “ and even now' that my own 
eyes assure me ot the fact, 1 can haidly believe you would arrive at 
New Vork, and quit it without giving us the satisfaction of seeing 
you.” 

“ In that, sir, you are not wrong; certainly nothing could have 
deprived me of that pleasure, but the knowledge that it would not 
have been agreeable to yourselves. _ My sudden appearance here, 
however, will be without mystery, when 1 tell j'ou that 1 returned 
from England by the way of Quebec, the Great Lakes, and the 
Falls, having been induced by my friend Ducie to take that route, 
in consequence of his ship’s being sent to the St. Lawrence. A 
desire for novelty, and particularly a desire to see the celebrated 
cataract, which is almost the lion of America, did the rest.” 

“ We are glad to have you with us on any terms, and 1 take it as 
particularly Ivind that you did not pass my door. Tou have been 
here some days?” 

“ Quite a week. On reaching Utica 1 diverged from the great 
route to see this place, nol anticipating the pleasure ot meeting you 
here so early; but hearing -you were expected, I determined to re- 
main, with a hope, wiiich 1 rejoice to find was not vain, that you 
would not be sorry to see an old fellow- traveler again.” 

Mr. Effingham pressed his hands warmlj^ again before he relin- 
quished them; an assurance ot w'elcome that Paul received^ith 
thrilling satisfaction. 

“ 1 have been in Templeton almost long enough,” the young man 
resumed, laughing, “ to set up as a candidate for the public favor, 
if 1 rightly understand the claims of a denizen. By what 1 can 
gather from casual remarks, the old proverb that ‘ the new broom 
sweeps clean,’ applies with singular fidelity throughout all this 
region.” 

Have you a copy ot your last ode, or a spare epigram, in your 
pocket?” inquired John Effingham. 

Paul locked surprised, and Aristabulus, for a noveltj^ w'as a little 
dashed. Paul looked surprised, as a matter of course, for, although 
he had been a little annoyed by the curiosity that is apt to haunt a 
village imagination, since his arrival in Templeton, he did not in the 
least suspecTt that his love of a beautiful nature had been imputed to 
devotion to the rnuses. Perceiving, how^ever, by the smiles of those 
around him, that there was more meant than was expressed, he had 
the tact to permit the explanation to corre from the person who had 
put the question, if it were proper it should come at all. 

“ We will deter the great pleasure that is in reserve,” continued 
John Effingham, “ to another time. At present, it strikes me that 


92 


HOME AS FOUND. 


the lady of the lawn is getting to be impatient, and the dejeuner d 
la jourchette, that 1 have had the precaution to order, is probably 
waiting our appearance. It must be eaten, though under the penalty 
of being thought moonstruck rhymers by the whole State. Come, 
Ned; if you are sufficiently satisfied with looking at the Wigwam 
in a bird’s-eye view, we will descend and put its beauties to the 
severer test of a close examination.’’ 

This proposal was readily accepted, though all tore themselves 
from that lovely spot with reluctance, and not until they had paused 
to take another look. 

“ Fancy the shores of this lake lined with villas,” said Eve, 
” church-towers raising their dark heads among these hills; each 
mountain crowned with a castle or a crumbling ruin, and all the 
other accessories of an old state of society, and what would then be 
the charms of the view?” 

‘‘ Less than they are to-day. Miss Effingham,” said Paul Powis; 
“ for though poetry requires — jmu all smile, is it forbidden to touch 
on such subjects?” 

‘‘ Not at all, so it be done in wholesome rhymes,” returned the 
baronet. “You ought to know that you are expected even to speak 
in doggerel.” 

Paul ceased, and the whole party walked away from the place 
laughing and light-hearted. 


CHAPTER X. 

It is the spot. I came to seek 
My father’s ancient burial place — 

It is the spot — I know it well, 

Of which our old traditions teU. 

Bryant. 

From the day after their arrival in New Y’ork, or that on which 
the account of the arrests by the English cruiser had appeared in 
the journals, little had been said by any of our party concerning 
Paul Powis, or of the extraordinary manner in which he had left 
the packet, at the very moment she was about to enter her haven. 
It is true that Mr. Dodge, arrived at Dodgeopolis, had dilated on the 
subject in his hebdomadal, with divers additions and conjectures of 
his own, and ihis, too, in a way to attract a good deal of attention 
in the interior; but, it being a rule with those who are supposed to 
dwell at the fountain of foreign intelligence not to receive anything 
from those who ought not to be better informed than themselres"^ 
the Efflnghams and their friends had never heard of his account of 
the matter. 

While all thought the incident of the sudden return extraordi- 
nary, no one felt disposed to judge the young man harshly. The 
gentlemen knew that military censure, however unpleasant, did not 
always imply moral unworthihess; and as for the ladies, they re- 
tained too lively a sense of his skill and gallantry to wish to imagine 
evil on grounds so slight and vague. Still, it had been impossible 
altogether to prev^ent the obtrusion of disagreeable surmises, and all 
now sincerely rejoiced at seeing their late companion once more 


HOME AS EOUND. 93 

among them, seemingly in a state of mind that announced neither 
guilt nor degradation. 

On quitting the mountain, Mr. Effingham, who had a tender re- 
gard for Grace, offered her his arm as he would have given it to a 
second daughter, leaving Eve to the care of John Effingham. Sir 
George attended to Mademoiselle Viefville, and Paul walked by the 
side of our heroine and her cousin, leaving Aristabulus to be what 
he himself called a “ miscellaneous companion;” or, in other words, 
to thrust himself into either set, as inclination or accident might in- 
duce. Of course the parties conversed as they walked, though those 
in advance would occasionally pause to say a word to those in the 
rear; and, as they descended, one or two changes occurred to which 
we may have occasion to allude. 

“ 1 trust you have had pleasant passages,” said John Effingham 
to Paul, as soon as they were separated in the manner just men- 
tioned. “ Three trips across the Atlantic in so short a time would 
be hard duty to a landsman, though you, as a sailor, will probably 
think less of it.” 

‘‘ In this respect 1 have been fortunate; the ‘ Foam,’ as we know 
from experience, being a good traveler, and Ducie is altogether a 
fine fellow and an agreeable messmate. You know 1 had him tor a 
companion both going and coming.” 

This was said naturally; and, while it explained so little directly, 
it removed all unpleasant uncertainty, by assuring his listeners that 
he had been on good terms at least with the person who had seemed 
to be his pursuer. John Effingham, too, well understood that no 
one messed with the commander of a vessel of war, in his own ship, 
who was in any way thought to be an unfit associate. 

“ You have made a material circuit to reach us, the distance by 
Quebec being nearly a fourth more than the direct road.” 

” Ducie desired it so strongly, that 1 did not like to deny him. 
Indeed, he made it a point at first to obtain permission to land me 
at New York, where he had found me, as he said; but to this 1 
would not listen, as 1 feared it might interfere with his promotion, 
of which he stood so good a chance, in consequence of his success in 
the affair of the money. By keeping constantly before- the eyes of 
his superiors, on duty of interest, 1 thought his success- would be 
more certain.” 

“ And has his government thought his perseverance in the chase 
worthy of such a reward?” 

” Indeed it has. He is now a post, and all owing to his good luck 
and judgment in that affair; though in his country, rank in private 
life does no harm to one in public life.” 

Eve liked the emphasis that Paul laid on “ his country,” and she 
thought the whole remark was made in a spirit that an Englishman 
would not be apt to betray. 

“ Has it ever occurred to you,” continued John Effingham, ” that 
our sudden and unexpected separation has caused a grave neglect of 
duty in me, if not in both of us?” 

Paul looked surprised, and by his manner he demanded an expla- 
nation. 

“ You may remember the sealed package of poor Mr. Monday, 
that we were to open together on our arrival in New York, and on 


94 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


the contents of which we were taucrht to believe depended the set- 
tling of some important private rights. 1 gave that package to you 
at the moment it was received, and in the hurry of leaving us, you 
overlooked the circumstance.*’ 

“ All very true, and to my shame 1 confess that, until this instant, 
the affair has been quite forgotten by me. 1 had so much to occupy 
my mind wiiile in England, that it was not likely to be remembered, 
and then the packet itself has scarce been in my possession since the 
day 1 left you.’’ 

“ It is not lost, I trust!” said John Effingham quiculy. 

” Surely not! It is safe beyond a question, in the writing-desk 
in which 1 deposited it. But the moment we got to Portsmouth, 
Ducie and myself proceeded to London together, and as soon as he 
had got through at the Admiralty, we went into Yorkshire, where 
we remained, much occupied with private matters of great import- 
ance to us both, while his ship was docked, and then it became 
necessaiy to make sundry visits to our relations — ” 

“Relations!” repeated Eve involuntarily, ihough she did not 
<?ease to reproach herself for the indiscretion during the rest of the 
walk. 

“ Relations,” returned Paul, smiling. “ Captain Ducie and my- 
self arecousins-german, and we made pilgrimages together to sundry 
family shrines. This duty occupied us until jT few days before we 
sailed tor Quei)ec. On reaching our haven, 1 left the ship to visit 
the great lakes and Niagara, leaving most of my effects with Ducie, 
who has promised to bring them on with himself, when he followed 
on my track, as he expected soon to do, on his way to the West 
Indies, where he is to find a frigate. He owed me this attention, 
as he insisted, on account of having induced me to go so far out of 
my way, with so much luggage, to oblige him. The packet is, 
unluckily, left behind with tlie other things.” 

“ And do you expect Captain Ducie to arrive in this country 
soon? The affair of the packet ought not to be neglected much 
longer; for a promise to a dying man is doubly binding, as it appeals 
to all our generosity. Rather than neglect the matter much longer, 
1 would prefer sending a special messenger to Quebec.” 

“ That will be quite unnecessary, as indeed it would be useless. 
Ducie left Quebec yesterday, and has sent his and my effects direct 
to New y oik, under the care of his own steward. The writing- 
case,* containing other papers that are of interest to us both, he has 
promised not to lose sight of, but it will accompany him on the 
«ame tour as that 1 have just made; for he wishes to avail himself 
of this opportunity to see Niagara and the lakes also. He is now 
on my track, and will notify me by letter of the day he will be in 
Utica, in order that we may meet on the line of the canal, near this 
place, and proceed to New York in company.” 

His companions listened to this brief statement with an intense 
interest, with which the packet of poor Mr. Monday, however, had 
very little connection. John Effingham called to his cousin, and, 
in a tew words, stated the circumstances as they had just been re- 
lated to himself, without adverting to the papers of Mr. Monday, 
which was an affair that he had hitherto kept to himself. 

“ It will be no more than a return of civility, if we invite Captain 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


95 

Ducie to diverge from his road, and pass a few days with us in the 
mountains,” he added. ‘‘ At what precise time do you expect him 
to pass, Powis?” 

‘‘ Within the fortnight. 1 feel certain he would be glad to pay 
his respects to this party; for he often expressed his sincere regrets- 
at having bepn employed on a service that exposed the ladies to so 
much peril and delay.” 

“ Captain Ducie is a near kinsman of Mr. Powis, dear father,” 
added Eve, in a way to show her parent that the invitation would 
be agreeable to herself; for Mr. Effingham was so attentive to the 
wishes of his daughter, as never to ask a guest to his house that he 
thought would prove disagreeable to its mistress. 

” 1 shall do myself the pleasure to write to Captain Ducie this 
evening, urging him to honor us with his compan}^” returned Mr. 
Effingham. “ We expect other friends in a few days, and 1 hope 
he will not find his time heavy on his hands while in exile among 
us. Mr. Powis will inclose my note in one of his letters, and will, 
1 trust, second the request by his own solicitations.” 

Paul made his acknowledgments, and the whole party proceeded, 
though the interruption caused such a change in the figure of the 
promenade as to leave the young man the immediate escort of Eve. 
The part}' by this time had not only reached tlie highway, but it 
had again diverged from it, to follow the line of an old and aban- 
doned wheel-track that descended the mountain, along the side of 
the declivity, b}’’ a wilder and more perilous direction than suited a 
modern enterprise — it having been one of those little calculated and 
rude roads that the first settlers of a country are apt to make, before 
there are time and means to investigate and finish to advantage. 
Although much more difficult and dangerous than its successor, ae 
a highway, this relic of the infant condition of the country was by 
far the most retired and beautiful, and pedestrians continued to use 
it as a common footpath to the Vision. The seasons had narrowed 
its surface, and the second growth had nearly covered it with their 
branches, sbadincr it like an arbor; and Eve expressed her delight 
with its wildness and boldness, mingled, as both w'ere, with so 
pleasant a seclusion, as the}'" descended along a path as safe and con- 
venient as a French allee. Glimpses w’ere constantly obtained of the 
lake and the village while they proceeded, and altogether, they who 
were strangers to the scenery w^ere loud in its praises. 

‘‘ Most persons who see this valley for the first time,” observed 
Aristabulus, ” find something to say in its favor; for my part, 1 
consider it as rather curious myself.” 

“Curious!” exclaimed Paul; “that gentleman is at least singu- 
lar in the choice of his expressions.” 

“You have met him before to-day,” said Eve, laughing, for Eve 
was now in a humor to laugh at trifles. “ This w^e know, since he 
prepared us to meet a poet, where we only find an old friend.” 

“Only, Miss Effiingham! Do you estimate poets so high, and 
old friends so low‘r” 

“ This extraordinary person, Mr. Aristabulus Bragg, really de- 
ranges all one’s notions and opinions in such a manner, as to destroy 
even the usual signification of words, 1 believe. He seems so much 
in, and j^et so mucfi out of his place; is both so rww and so unprac- 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


^^6 

ticed: so unfit for what he is, and so ready at everything, that 1 
scarcely know how to apply terms in any matter with which he has 
the smallest connection. 1 fear he has persecuted you since your 
arrival in Templeton?” 

‘‘ j^ot at all; 1 am so much acquainted with men of his caste, that 
1 have acquired a tact in managing them. Perceiving that he was 
disposed to suspect me of a disposition to ‘ poetize the lake,’ to use 
his own term, 1 took care to drop a couple ot lines, roughly written 
off, like a hasty and imperfect effusion, where 1 felt sure he would 
find them, and have been living for a whole week on the tame 
thereof-’' 

‘‘You do indulge in such tastes, then?” said Eve, smiling a little 
saucily. 

‘‘lam as innocent ot such an ambition as ot wishing to marry 
the heiress ot the British throne, which, 1 believe, just now, is the 
goal ot all the Icaruses ot our own time. 1 am merely a rank 
plagiarist — for the rhyme, on the tame ot which 1 have rioted tor a 
glorious week, was two lines ot Pope’s, an author so effectually for- 
gotten in these palmy days ot literature, in which all knowledge 
seems so condensed into tiie productions of the last tew years, that 
a man might almost pass oft an entire classic for his own, without 
the fear ot detection. It was merely the first couplet of the ‘ Essay 
on Man,’ which, fortunately, having an allusion to the ‘ pride ot 
kings,’ would pass for original, as well as excellent, in nineteen vil- 
lages in twenty in America, in these piping times of ultra-republic- 
anism. No doubt Mr. Bragg thought a eulogy on the ‘ people ’ 
w'as to come next, to be succeeded by a glorious picture of Temple- 
ton and its environs.” 

‘‘ I do not know that 1 ought to admit these hits at liberty from a 
foreigner,” said Eve, pretending to look graver than she felt; tor 
never before, in her life, had our heroine so strong a consciousness 
of happiness as she had experienced that very morning. 

‘‘ Foreigner, Miss Effingham! And why a foreigner?” 

‘‘ Nay, you know your own pretended cosmopolitanism; and ought 
not the cousin of Captain Ducie to be an Englishman?” 

“ I shall not answer for the ought, the siinple tact being a suffi- 
cient reply to the question. The cousin ot Caplain Ducie is not an 
Englishman; nor, as I see you suspect, has he ever served a day in 
the British navy, or in any other navy than that of his native land.” 

‘‘ This is indeed taking us by surprise, and that most agreeabl}'', ” 
returned Eve, looking up at him with undisguised pleasure, while a 
bright glow crimsoned her face. ‘‘ We could not but feel an inter- 
est in one who had so effectually served us; and both my father and 
Mr. John Effingham — ” 

“ Cousin Jacl^ — ” interrupted the smiling Paul. 

Cousin Jack, then, if you dislike the formality 1 used; both my 
lather and Cousin Jack examined the American navy registers for 
your name without success, as 1 understood, and the inference that 
followed was fair enough, 1 believe you will admit.” 

‘‘ Had they looked at the register of a tew j'oars’ date, they would 
have met with better luck. 1 have quitted the service, and am a 
sailor only in recollections. For the last few years, like yourselves, 
1 have been a traveler by land as well as by water.” 


HOME AS FOU^^D. 


97 

Eve said no more, though every syllable that the young man ut^ 
ttered was received by attentive ears, and retained with a scrupulous 
fidelity of memory. They walked some distance in silence, until 
they reached the grounds of a house that was beautifully placed on 
the side of the mountain, near a lovely w'ood of pines. Crossing 
these grounds until they reached a terrace in fiont of the dwelling, 
the viilage>ot Templeton lay directly in their front, perhaps a bun- 
dled feet beneath them, and yet so near as to render the minutest 
object distinct. Here they all stopped to take a more distinct view 
of a place that had so much interest wu'th most of the party. 

“ i hope you are sufficiently acquainted with the localities to act 
as cicerone,” said Mr. Effingham to Paul. “ In a visit of a week to 
this village, you have scarcely overlooked the ’Wigwam.” 

“ Perhaps 1 ought to hesitate, or rather ought to blush, to own 
it,” answered the young man, discharging the* latter obligation by 
coloring to his temples; ” but curiosity has proved* so much stronger 
than manners, that 1 have been induced to trespass so tar on the 
politeness of this gentleman as to gain an admission to your dwell- 
ing, in and about which more of my time has been passed than has 
probably proved agreeable to its inmates.” 

” 1 hope the gentleman will not speak of it,” said Aristabulus. 

In this country, we live pretty much in common, and with me it 
is a rule, when a gentleman drops in, wffiether stranger or neighbor, 
to show him the civility to ask him to take off his hat.” i 

“ It appears to me,” said Eve, willing to change the conversation, \ 
that Templeton has an unusual number of steeples; for what pur- 
pose can so small a place possibly require so many buildings of that 
nature?” ; 

‘‘All in behalf of orthodoxy. Miss Eve,” returned Aristabulus, I 
who conceived himself to be the proper person to answer such inter- ’ 
rogatories. “ There is a shade of opinion beneath every one of those 
•steeples.” 

” Do you mean, sir, that there are as many shades of faith in. 
Templeton as 1 now see buildings that have the appearance of being 
devoted to religious purposes?” 

‘‘ Double the number, miss, and some to spare, in the bargain; 
for you see but five meeting-houses and the county buildings, and 
^ye reckon seven hostile denominations in the village, besides the 
diversities of sentiment on trifles. This edifice that you perceive 
here, in a line with the chimneys of the first house, is New St. 
Paul’s, Mr. Grant’s old church, as orthodox a house, in its way, as 
there is in the diocese, as you may see by the windows. This is a 
gaining concern, though there has been some falling off of late, in. 
consequence of the clergyman’s having caught a bad cold, whicli. 
has made him a little hoarse; but 1 dare say he will get over it, and 
the church ought not to be abandoned on that account, serious as 
the matter undoubtedly is for the moment. A few" of us have deter- 
mined to bacK up Newi St. Paul’s in this crisis, and 1 make it a 
point to go there myself quite half the time.” 

‘‘lam glad we have so much of your company, ” said Mr. Effing- 
ham, ” for that is our owm church, and in it my daughter was bap- 
tized. But, do you divide your religious opinions in halves, Mr* 
Bragg?” 


4 


08 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


“ In as many parts, Mr. Effingham, as there are denominations in 
the neighborhood, giving a decided preference to New St. Paul’s,, 
notwithstanding, under the peculiar circumstances, particularly to 
the windows. The dark, gloomy-looking building, miss, ofl; in the 
distance yonder, is the Methodist affair, of which not much need be 
said, Methodism flourishing but little among us since the introduc- 
tion of the New Lights, who have fairly managed to out excite them 
on every plan they can invent. 1 believe, however, they stick pretty 
much to the old doctrine, which no doubt is one great reason ot 
their present apathetic state; for the people do love novelties.” 

“Pray, sir, what building is this nearly in a line with New St. 
Paul’s, and which resembles it a little in color and form?” 

“■Windows excepted; it has two rows ot regular square-topped 
windows, miss, as j^ou may observe. That is the First Presbyte- 
rian, or the old standard; a very good house and a pretty good faith,, 
too, as times go.* 1 make it a point to attend there at least once 
every fortnight; for change is agreeable to the nature of man. 1 
will say, miss, that my preference, so far as 1 have any, however, is 
for New St. Paul’s, and 1 have experienced considerable regrets 
that these Presbyterians have gained a material advantage over us, 
in a very essential point, lately.” 

“ 1 am sorry to hear this, Mr. Bragg; for, being an Episcopalian 
myself, and having great reliance on the antiquity and purity of my 
church, I should be sorry to And it put in the wrong by any other.” 

“ 1 fear we must give that point up, notwithstanding; for these 
Presbyterians have entirely outwitted the church people in that mat- 
ter.” 

“ And what is the point in which we have been so signally worst- 
ed?” 

“ Why, miss, their new bell weighs quite a hundred more than 
that of New St. Paul’s, and has altogether the best sound. 1 know 
very well that this advantage will not avail them anything to boas! 
of, in the last great account; but it makes a surprising difference in 
the state of probation. You see the yellowish-looking building 
across the valley, with a heavy wall around it, and a lelfrv? That,,, 
in its regular character, is the county court-house and jail ; but in 
the way of religion, it is used pretty much miscellaneously.” 

“ Do you mean really, sir, that divine service is ever actually per- 
formed in it, or that persons of all denominations are occasionally 
tried there?” 

“ It would be truer to say that all denominations occasionally try 
the court-house,” said Aristabulus, simpering; “ for 1 believe it has 
been used in this way by every shade ot religion short of the Jews.. 
The Gothic tower in wood is the building of the Universalists;. 
and the Grecian edifice, that is not yet painted, of the Baptists., 
The Quakers, I believe, worship chiefly at home, and the different 
shades of the Presbyterians meet in different rooms in private houses 
about the place.” 

“ Are there then shades of difference in the denomination, ae^ 
well as all these denomiations?” asked Eve, in unfeigned surprise;; 

and this, too, in a population so small?” 

“ This is a free country, Miss Eve, and freedom loves variety^ 
* Many men, many minds,’ ” 


HOME AS FOUND. 


99 


“ Quite true, sir,” said Paul; '* but here are many minds among 
lew men. Nor is this all ; agreeably to your own account, some of 
these men do not exactly know their own minds. But, can you ex- 
plain to us what essential points are involved in all these shades of 
opinion?” 

‘‘It would require a life, sir, to understand the half of them. 
Some say that excitement is religion, and others, that it is content- 
ment. One set cries up practice, and another cries out against it. 
This man maintains that he will be saved if he does good, and that 
man affirms that if he only does good, he will be damned; a little 
evil is necessary to salvation, with one shade of opinion, while an- 
other thinks a man is never so near conversion as when he is deep- 
est iu sin.” 

‘‘ Subdivsion is the order of the day,” added John Effingham. 

Every county is to be subdivided, that there may be more county 
towns and county offices; every religion decimated, that there may 
be a greater variety and better quality of saints.” 

Aristabulus nodded his head, and he would have winked, could 
iie have presumed to take such a liberty with a man he held as much 
in habitual awe as John Effingham. 

‘'Monsieur,” inquired Mile. Viefville, ‘‘is there no eglise, no 
rentable eglise in Templeton?” 

‘‘ Oh, yes, madame, several,” returned Aristabulus, who would 
as soon think of admitting that he did not understand the meaning 
of rentable eglise, as one of the sects he had been describing would 
think of admitting that it was not infallible in its interpretation of 
Chiistianit}' — ‘‘several; but they are not to be seen from this par- 
ticular spot.” 

‘‘ How much more picturesque would it be, and even Christian- 
like in appearance, at least,” said Paul, ” could these good people 
consent to unite in worshiping God! and how' much does it bring 
into strong relief the feebleness and ignorance of man, when you see 
him splitting hairs about doctrines, under which he has been told, in 
terrris as plain as language cau make it. that he is simply required to 
believe in the goodness and power of a Being whose nature and agen- 
cies exceed his comprehension.” 

‘‘ All very true,” cried John Effingham, “but what would be- 
come of liberty of conscience in such a case? Most men, nowadays, 
understand by faith, a firm reliance on (heir own opinions!” 

“ In that case, loo,” put in Aristabulus, “we should want this 
handsome display of churches to adorn our village. There is good 
comes of it; for any man would be more likely to invest in a place 
that has five churches than in a place with but one. As it is, Tem- 
pleton has as beautiful a set of churches as any tillage 1 know.” 

“ Say rather, sir, a set of casters; for a stronger resemblance to 
vinegar -cruets and mustard-pots than is borne by these architectural 
prodigies, eye never beheld.” 

“It is, nevertheless, a beautiful thing, to see the high-pointed 
roof of the house of God, crowning an assemblage of houses, as one 
finds it in other countries,” said Eve, “ instead of a pile of tavern, 
as is too much the case in this dear home of ours. ” 

When this remark was uttered, they descended the step that led 
irom the terrace, and procecdeil toward' the village. On reaching 


) > > 


100 


HOME AS FOUND. 


the gate of the Wigwam, the whole party stood confronted with 
that ofispring of John Effingham’s taste; for so great had been his 
improvements on the original production of Hiram Doolittle, that 
externally, at least, that distinguished architect could no longer have 
recognized the fruits of his own talents. 

“ This is carrying out to the full, John, the conceits of the com- 
posite order,” observed Mr. Effingham, dryly. 

‘‘ I shall be sorry, Ned, if you dislike your house as it is amended 
and corrected.” 

” Dear Cousin Jack,” cried Eve, “ it is an odd jumble of the Gre 
cian and Gothic. One would like to know your authorities for 
such a liberty.” 

” What do you think of the facade of the Cathedral of Milan,, 
miss?” laying emphasis on the last words, in imitation of the man- 
ner of Mr. Bragg. “Is it such a novelty to see the two styles 
blended; or is architecture so pure in America, that you think i 
have committed the unpardonable sin?” 

“ Nay, nothing that is out of rule ought to strike one in a country 
where imitation governs in all things immaterial, and originality 
unsettles all things sacred and dear.” 

“ By way of punishment for that bold speech, 1 wish 1 had left 
the old rookery in the state 1 found it, that its beauties might have 
greeted your eyes, instead of this uncouth pile, which seems so much 
to offend them. Mademoiselle Yiefville, permit me to ask how you 
like that house?” 

“ 31ais c’est un petit chateau.” 

“ JJn chateau, Effinghamise,” said Eve, laughing. 

“ Efflnghamise si vous voukz, machere ; pourtant c'est un chateau.” 

“ The general opinion in this part of the country is,” said Arista- 
bulus, “ that Mr. John Effingham has altered the building on the 
plan of some edifice in Europe, though 1 forget the name of the 
particular temple; it is not, however, the Parthenon, nor the Temple 
of Minerva.” 

“ 1 hope, at least,” said Mr. Effingham, leading the way up a little 
lawn, “ it will not turn out to be the Temple of the Winds.” 


CHAPTER XI. 

Nay, I’ll come; if I loose a scruple of this sport, let me be boiled to death wdth 
melancholy .—Shakespeare . 

The progress of society in America has been distinguished by 
several peculiarities that do not so properly belong to the more reg- 
ular and methodical advance of civilization in other parts of the 
world. On the one hand the arts of life, like Minerva, wffio was 
struck out of the intellectual being of her father at a blow’, have 
started full-grown into existence, as the legitimate inheritance of the 
colonists, while on the other, everything tends toward settling down 
into a medium, as regards quality, a consequence of the community- 
character of the institutions. Everything she had seen that day had 
struck Eve as partaking of this mixed nature, in which, while 
nothing was vulgar, little even approached to that high standard 
that her European education had taught her to esteem perfect. In 
the W igwam, however, as her father’s cousin had seen fit to name 


HOME AS FOUND. 


101 

the family dwelling, there was more of keeping, and a closer atten- 
tion to the many little things she had been accustomed to consider 
essential to comfort and elegance, and she was better satisfied with 
her future home than with most she hart seen since her return to 
America. 

As we have described the interior of this house in another work, 
little remains to be said on the subject at present, for, while John 
Effingham had completely altered its external appearance, its internal 
was not much changed. It is true, the cloud-colored covering had 
disappeared, as had that stoop also, the columns of which were so 
nobly upheld by their superstructure; the former having given place 
to a less obtrusive roof, that was regularly embattled, and the latter 
having been swallowed by a small entrance tower that the new archi- 
tect had contrived to attach to the building with quite as much ad- 
vantage to it in the way of comfort as in the way of appearance. 
In truth, the Wigwam had none of the more familiar features of a 
modern American dwelling of its class. There was not a column 
about it, whether Grecian, Roman, or Egyptian; no Venetian blinds; 
no veranda or piazza; no outside paint, nor gay blending of colors. 
On the contiary, it was a plain old structure, built with great solidity 
and of excellent materials, and in that style of respectable dignity and 
propriety that was perhaps a little more peculiar to our fathers than 
it is to their successors, our worthy selves. In addition to the en- 
trance tower, or porch, on its northern front, John Effingham had 
also placed a prettily devised conceit on the southern, by means of 
which the abrupt transition from an inner room to the open air was 
adroitly avoided. He had, moreover, removed the “ firstly ” of the 
edifice, and supplied its place with a more suitable addition that con- 
tained some of the offices, while it did not disfigure the building, a 
rare circumstance in an architectural after-thought. 

Internally the Wigwam had gradually been undergoing improye- 
ment ever since that period, which, in the way of the arts, if not in 
the way of chronology, might be termed the dark ages of Otsego. 
The great hall had long before lost its characteristic decoration of 
the severed arm of Wolf, a Gothic paper that was better adapted ta 
the really respectable architecture of the room being its substitute: 
and even the urii that was thought to contain the "ashes of Queen 
Dido, like the pitcher that goes often to the well, had been broken 
in 8 war of extermination that had been carried on against the cob- 
webs, by a particularly notable housekeeper. Old Homer, too, had 
gone the way of all baked clay; Shakespeare himself had dissolved 
into dust, “leaving not a.wreck behind;’’ and of Washington and 
Franklin, even, indigenous as they were, there remained no vestiges. 
Instead of these venerable memorials of the past, John Effingham,, 
w'ho retained a pleasing recollection of their beauties as they had 
presented themselves to" his boyish eyes, had bought a* few substi- 
tutes in a New York shop, and a Shakespeare, and a Milton, and a 
Ctesar, and a Dryden, and a Locke, as the writers of the heroic so 
beautifully express it, w^ere now seated in tranquil dignity on the old 
medallions that had held their illustrious predecessors. Although 
time had, as yet, done little for this new collection in the way of 
coIqj', dust and neglect were already throwing around them the tint 
of titiquity. 


102 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


“ The lady/’ to use the language of Mr. Bragg, who did the 
cooking of the Wigwam, having everything in readiness, our party 
took their seats at the breakfast-table, which was spread in the great 
hall, as soon as each had paid a little attention to the toilet. As 
the service was neither very scientific nor sufficiently peculiar, either 
in the way of elegance or of its opposite quality, to be worthy of 
notice, we shall pass it over in silence. 

“ One will not quite so much miss European architecture in this 
house,” said Eve, as she took her seat at table, glancing an eye at 
the spacious and lofty room in which they were assembled; ‘‘ here 
is at least size and its comforts, if not elegance.” 

“ Had you lost all recollection of this building, my child,” in- 
quired her father, kindly, ” i was in hopes you would feel some 
happiness of returning home when you again found yourself beneath 
its roof!” 

“ 1 should greatly dislike to have all the antics 1 have been play- 
ing in my own dressing-room exposed,” returned Eve, rewarding 
the parental solicitude of her father by a look of love, ” though 
Grace, between her laughing and her tears, has threatened me with 
such disgrace. Ann Sidley has also been weeping; and as even 
Annette, always courteous and considerate, has shed a few tears in 
the way of sympathy, you ought not to imagine that 1 have been 
altogether so stoical as not to betray some feeling, dear father. But 
the parox 3 ^sm is past, and I am beginning to philosophize. 1 hope 
Cousin Jack, you have not forgotten that the drawing-room is a 
lady’s empire!” 

” 1 have respected your rights. Miss Effingham, though, with a 
wish to prevent au)'- violence to your tastes, 1 have caused sundry 
antediluvian paintings and engravings to be consigned to the--” 

‘‘ Garretv” inquired Eve, so quickly as to interrupt the speaker. 

” Fire,” coo]l 3 Meturued her cousin. “ Thegarretis now much too 
good for them; that part of the house being converted into sleeping- 
rooms tor the maids. Mademoiselle Annette would go into hysterics, 
w'ere she to see the works of art that satisfied the past generation of 
masters in this country, in too close familiarit 3 ’^ with her Louvre- 
ized eyes.” 

'' Point au tout, monsieur said Mademoiselle Viefville, innocent- 
ly; Annette a dll gout dans son metier sans doute, but she is too well 
bred to expect impossibihtes. No doubt she would have conducted 
herself with decorum.” 

Everybody laughed, for much light-heartedness prevailed at that 
board, and the conversation continued. 

‘‘ 1 shall be satisfied if Annette escape convulsions,” Eve added, 

a refined taste being her weakness; and to be frank, what 1 recol- 
lect of the works you mention, is not of the most flattering nature.” 

‘‘And 3 ^et,” observed Sir George, ‘‘nothing has surprised me 
more than the respectable state of the arts of engraving and painting 
in this country. It was unlooked for, and the pleasure has probably 
been in proportion to the surprise.” 

‘‘In that 3 mu are very right. Sir George Templemore,” John 
Effingham answered; “but the improvement is of very recent 
date, lie who remembers nn xlmerican town half a century ago, 
will see a ver 3 ’- different thing in nn American town of to-day; and 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


loa 

this is equally true of the arts you mention, with the essential differ- 
ence that the latter are taking a right direction under a proper in- 
struction, while the former are taking a wrong direction under the 
influence of money, that has no instruction. Had I left much of the 
old furniture or any of the old pictures in the Wigwam, we should 
have had the bland features of Miss Efllngham in frowns instead of 
bewitching smiles, at this very moment.” 

” And yet 1 have seen fine old furniture in this country. Cousin 
Jack.” 

” Veiy tjrue; though not in this part of it. The means of convey- 
ance were wanting halt a century since, and few people risk finery 
of any sort on corduroys. This very house had some respectable old 
things, that were brought here by dint>of money, and they still re- 
main; but the eighteenth century in general may be set down as a 
very dark antiquity in all this region.” 

When the repast was over, Mr. Effingham led his guests and 
daughter through the principal apartments, sometimes commending 
and sometimes laughing at the conceits of liis kinsman. The library 
was a good-sized room; good-sized at least for a country in which 
domestic architecture, as well as public architecture, is still in the 
chrysalis state. Its walls were hung with an exceedingly pretty 
gothic paper, in green, but over each window was a chasm in the up- 
per border; and as this border supplied the arches, the unity of the 
entire design was broken in no less than four places, that being the 
precise number of the windows. The delect soon attracted the eye 
of Eve, and she was not slow in demanding an explanation. 

” The deficiency is owing to an American accident,’* returned her 
cousin; ‘‘ one of those calamities of which you are fated to experi- 
ence many, as the mistress of an American household. No more of 
the border was to be bought in the country, and this is aland of 
shops and not of fabricants. At Paris, mademoiselle, one would 
send to the paper-maker for a supply; but, alas! he that has not 
enough of a thing with us, is as badly off as if he had none. We 
are consumers and not producers of works of art. It is a long way 
to send to France for ten or fifteen feet of paper-hangings, and yet 
this must be done, or my beautiful gothic arches will remain for- 
ever without their keystones!” 

“ One sees the inconvenience of this,” observed Sir George; ‘‘ we 
feel it, even in England, in all that relates to imported things.” 

” And we, in nearly all things, but food.” 

“ And does not this show that America can never become a man- 
ufacturing country?” asked the baronet, with the interest an intel- 
ligent Englishman ever feels in that all-absorbing question. “ If you 
can not manufacture an article as simple as that of paper-hangings, 
would it not be well to turn your attention altogether to agriculture?” 

As the feeling of this interrogatory was much more apparent than 
its logic, smiles passed from one to the other, though John Effing- 
ham, who really had a regard for Sir George, was content to make 
an evasive reply, a singular proof of amity in a man of his caustic 
temperament. 

The survey of the house, on the whole, proved satisfactory to its 
future mistress, who complained, however, that it was furnished too 
much like a town residence. 


104 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


“For,” she added, “you ■uill remember, Cousin Jack, that our 
“visits here will be something like a 'dlleggiatura.'” 

“Yes, yes, my fair lady; it will not be long before your Parisian 
and Roman tastes will be ready to pronounce the whole country a 
Mlleggiaiura. ’ ’ 

“ This is the penalty. Eve, one pays lor being a Hajji,” observed 
Grace, who had been closely watching the expression of the others’ 
countenances; foi, agreeably to her view of things, the Wigwam 
wanted nothing to render it a perfect abode. “ The things that we 
enjoy, you despise.” 

“That is an argument, my dear coz, that would apply equally 
well as a reason for preferring brown sugar to white.” 

“In coffee, certainly. Miss Eve,” put in the attentive Aristabu- 
lus, who having acquired this taste, in virtue of an economical 
mother, really fancied it a pure one. “ Everybody, in these regions, 
prefers brown in coffee.” 

“ Oh, monpere et mamh'e, commeje'ccusen mux," said Eve, with- 
out attending to the nice distinctions of Mr. Bragg, which savored a 
little too much of the neophyte in cookery to find favor in the 
present company, '' commej emus en mux for having neglected so 
many beautiful sites, to place this building in the very spot it occu- 
pies.” 

“ In that respect, my child, we may rather be grateful at finding 
so comfortable a house at all. Compared with the civilization that 
then surrounded it, this dw’elling was a palace at the time of its erec- 
tion; bearing some such relation to the humbler structures around 
it, as the chateau bears to the cottage. Remember that brick had 
never before been piled on brick, in the walls of a house, in all this 
region, when the wigwam was constructed. It is the Temple of 
INeptune of Otsego, if not of all the surrounding counties.” 

Eve pressed to her lips the hand she w’-as holding in both her own, 
and they all passed out of the library into another room. As they 
came in front of the hall windows, a party of apprentice- boys were 
seen coolly making their arrangements to amuse themselves with a 
game of ball, on the lawn directly in front of the house. 

“ Surely, Mr. Bragg,” said the owmer of the Wigw^am, with more 
displeasure in his voice than w’as usual for one of his regulated 
mind, “ you do not countenance this liberty?” 

“ Liberty, sir! 1 am an advocate for liberty wherever 1 can find 
it. Do you refer to the young men on the lawn, Mr. EtRngharn?” 

“ Certainly to them, sir; and permit me to say, 1 think they might 
have chosen a more suitable spot for their sports. They are mistak- 
ing liberties for liberty, 1 fear.” 

“ Why, sir, 1 believe they have always played ball in that precise 
locality.” 

“ Always! 1 can assure you this is a great mistake. What pri.> 
vate family, placed as we are in the center of a village, would allow 
of any invasion of its privacy in this rude manner? Well may the 
house be termed a Wigwam, if this whooping is to be tolerated be- 
fore its door.” 

“ You forget, Ned,” said John Effingham, with a sneer, “that 
an American always means just eighteen months. Antiquity is 
reached in five lustra, and the dark ages at the end of a human life. 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


105 

1 dare say these amiable young gentlemen, who enliven their sports 
with so many agreeable oaths, would think you very unreasonable 
and encroaching to presume to tell them they are unwelcome.” 

” To own the truth, Mr. John, it would be downright unpopu- 
lar.” 

“As 1 can not permit the ears of the ladies to be offended with 
these rude brawls, and shall never consent to have grounds that are 
so limited, and which so properly belong to the very privacy ot my 
dwelling, invaded in this coarse manner, 1 beg, Mr. Bragg, that you 
will at once desire these young men to pursue their sports some- 
where else.” 

Aristabulus received this commission with a very ill grace; for,.,^ 
while his native sagacity told him that Mr. Effingham was right, he- 
too well knew the loose habits that had been rapidly increasing in 
the country during the last ten years, not to foresee that the order 
would do violence to all the apprentices’ preconceived notions of 
their immunities; lor, as he had truly stated, things move on at so 
quick a pace in America, and popular feeling is so arbitrary, that a 
custom of a twelvemonth’s existence is deemed sacred, until the 
public itself sees fit to alter it. He was reluctantly quitting the part}'’ 
on his unpleasant duty, when Mr. Effingham turned to a servant 
who belonged to the place, and bade him go to the village barber, 
and desire him to come to the Wigwam to cut his hair; Pierre, who 
usually performed that office lor him, being busied in unpacking 
trunks. 

“ Never mind, Tom,” said Aristabulus, obligingly, as he took up 
his hat; “ 1 am going into the street, and will give the message to 
Mr. Lather.” 

“ 1 can not think, sir, of employing you on such a 'duty,” hastily 
interposed Mr. Effingham, who felt a gentleman’s reluctance to im- 
pose an unsuitable office on any of his dependents — “Tom, lam 
sure, will do me the favor.” 

“ Do not name it, my dear sir; nothing makes me happier than to 
do these little errands, and, another time, you can do as much for 
me.” 

Aristabulus now went on his way more cheerfull3% for he deter- 
mined to go first to the barber, hoping that some expedient might 
suggest itself, by means of which he could coax the apprentices 
from the lawn, and thus escape the injury to his popularity that he 
so much dreaded. It is true, these apprentices were not voters, but 
then some of them speedily would be, and all of them, moreover, 
had tongues, an instrument Mr. Bragg held in quite as much awe as 
some men dread saltpetre. In passing the ball-players, he called 
out in a wheedling tone to their ring-leader, a notorious street 
brawler : 

“ A fine time for sport, Dickey; don’t you think there would be 
more room in the broad street than on this crowded lawn, where 
you lose your ball so often in the shrubbery?” 

“ This place will do, on a pinch,” bawled Dickey— “ though it 
might be better. If it warn’t for that plagued house, we couldn’t 
ask for a better ball-ground.” 

“ 1 don’t see,” put in another, “ what folks built a house just in 


106 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


that Spot tor, tor it has spoiled the very best plaj'f^round in the vil> 
la.£?e.” 

“ Some people have their notions as well as others,” returned Aris- 
tabulus; ‘’but, gentlemen, if I were in your place, 1 would try 
the street. 1 teel satisfied jmu would find it much the most agreea- 
ble and convenient.” 

The apprentices thought differently, however, or they were in- 
disposed to the change; and so they recommenced their yells, their 
oaths, and their game. In the meanwhile the parly in the house 
continued their examination of John Effingham’s improvements, 
and when this was completed they separated, each to his or her 
own room. 

Aristabulus soon reappeared on the lawn, and approaching the 
ball-players, he began to execute his commission, as he conceived, in 
good earnest. Instead of simply saying, however, that it was dis- 
agreeable to the owner of the property to have such an invasion on 
his privacy, and thus putting a stop to the intrusion for the future 
tis well as at the present moment, he believed some address necessary 
to attain the desired end. 

” Well, Dickey,” he said, “there is no accounting for tastes; 
but, in my opinion, the street would be a much better place to play 
ball in than this lawn. 1 wmnder gentlemen of your observation 
should be satisfied with so cramped a playground.” 

“ 1 tell you, Scfuire Bragg, this will do,” roared Dickey. “ We 
are in a hurry, and no way particular. The bosses will be after us 
in half an hour. Heave away, Sam!” 

“ There are so many fences hereabouts,” continued Aristabulus, 
with an air of indifference; “ it’s true the village trustees say there 
shall be no ball-playing in the street, but 1 conclude you don’t 
much mind what they think or threaten.” 

“Let them sue for that, if they like,” bawled a particularly 
amiable blackguard, called Peter, who struck his ball, as he spoke, 
quite into the principal street of the village. 

“ Who’s a trustee, that he should tell gentlemen where they are 
to play ball!” 

“Sure enough,” said Aristabulus, “and now, by following up 
that blow, you can bring matters to an issue. 1 think the law very 
■oppressive, and you can never have so good an opportunity to bring 
things to a crisis. Besides, it is very aristocratic to play ball among 
roses and dahlias.” 

The bait took; for what apprentice— American apprentice in par- 
ticular — can resist an opportunity of showing how much ho con- 
siders himself superior to the law? Then it had never struck any 
of the party before that it was vulgar and aristocratic to pursue the 
sport among roses, and one or two of them actually complained 
that they had pricked their fingers in searching for the ball. 

“ 1 know Mr. Efiiugham will be very sorry to have you go,” con- 
tinued Aristabulus, following up his advantage; “ but gentlemen 
can not always forego their pleasures for other"folks.” 

“ Who’s Mr. EflSngham, 1 would like to know?” cried Joe Wart. 

“ If he wants people to play ball on his premises let him cut down 
his roses. Come, gentlemen, 1 conform to Squire Bragg, and invite 
you all to follow me into the street.” 


HOME AS FOUXD. 


107 


As tlie lawn was now eviicnated en masse Aristabulus proceeded 
with alacrity to tire house, and went into the library, where Mr. 
Effingham was patiently availing his return. 

“ 1 am happy to inform you, sir,” commenced the embassador, 
‘‘that the ball-players have adjourned, and as for Mr. Lather, he 
declines your proposition!” 

” Declines my proposition!” 

‘‘ Yes, sjr, hedisliKes to come; tor he thinks it will be altogether a 
poor operation. His notion is, that if ir be worth his while to come 
up to the W igwam to cut your hair, it may be worth your while 
to go down to the shop to have it cut. Considering the matter in 
all its bearings, therelore, he concludes he would rather not engage 
in the transaction at all.” 

” 1 regret, sir, to have consented to your taking so disagreeable a 
commission, and regret it the more, now 1 find that the barber is 
disposed to be troublesome.” 

” l^ot at all, sir. Mr. Lather is a good man, in his way, and 
particularly neighborl3^ By the way, Mr. Effingham, he asked me 
to propose to let him take down your garden fence, in order that he 
may haul some manure on his potato-patch, which wants it dread- 
fully, he Saji’S.” 

” Certainly, sir. 1 can not possibly object to his hauling his 
manure even through this house, should he wish it. He is so very 
valuable a citizen, and one who knows his own business so well, 
that 1 am only surprised at the moderation of his request.” 

Here Mr. Effingham rose, rang the bell for Pierre, and went to his 
own room, doubting, in his own mind, from all that he had seen, 

. whether this was really the Templeton he had known in his youth, 
and whether he was in his own house or not. 

As tor Aristabulus, who saw nothing out of rule, or contrary to 
his own notions of propriety, in what had passed, he hurried off to 
tell the barber, who was so ignorant of the first duty of his trade, 
that he was at liberty to pull down Mr. Effingham’s fence, in order 
to manure his own potato-patch. 

Lest the reader should suppose we are drawing caricatures, instead 
of representing an actual condition of society, it may be necessary 
to explain that Mr. Bragg was a standing candidate for popular 
favor; that, like Mr. Dodge, he considered everything that repre- 
sented itself in the name of the public as sacred and paramount, 
and that so general and positive was his deference for majorities, 
that it was the bias of his mind to think half a dozen alw^ays in the 
right, as opposed to one, although that one, agreeably to the great 
decision of the real majority of the entire community, had not only 
the law on his side, but all the abstract merits of the disputed ques- 
tion. In short, to such a pass of freedom had Mr. Bragg, in com- 
mon with a laree class of his countrymen, carried his notions, that 
he had really begun to imagine liberty was all means and no end. 


108 


HOME AS EOUKD. 


CHAPTER XIL 

In sooth, thou wast in vei^ gracious fooling last night, when thou spokest of 
Pigrogromotus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus; ’twas very 
good, i’ faith . — Sir Andrew Ague-Cheek. 

The progress of society, it has just been said, in what is termed a 
‘‘new country,” is a little anomalous. At the commencement of 
a settlement, there is much of that sort of kind feeling and mutual 
interest which men are apt to manifest toward each other when they 
are embarked in an enteipiise of common hazards. The distance 
that is unavoidably inseparable from education, habits, and man- 
ners, is lessened by mutual wants and mutual efforts; and the 
gentleman, even while he may maintain his character and station, 
maintains them with that species of good -fellowship and familiarity 
that marks the intercourse between the officer and the soldier in an 
arduous campaign. Men, and even women, break bread together, 
and otherwise commingle, that, in different circumstances, would 
be strangers; the hardy adventures and rough living of the forest 
apparently lowering the pretensions of the man of cultivation and 
mere mental resources to something very near the level of those of 
the man of physical energy and manual skill. In this rude inter- 
course the parties meet, as it might be, on a sort of neutral ground, 
one yielding some of his superiority, and the other laying claims to 
an outward show of equality that he secretly knows, however, is 
the result of the peculiar circumstances in which he is placed. In 
short, the state of society is favorable to the claims of mere animal 
force, and unfavorable to those of the higher qualities. 

This period may be termed, perhaps, the happiest of the first 
century of a settlement. The great cares of life are so engrossing and 
serious that small vexations are overlooked, and the petty grievances 
that would make us seriously uncomfortable in a more regular state 
of society are taken as matters of course, or laughed at as the 
regular and expected incidents of the day. Good-will abounds; 
neighbor comes cheerfully to the aid of neighbor; and life has much 
of the reckless gayety, careless association, and buoyant merriment 
of childhood. It is found that they who have passed through this 
probation usually look back to it with regret, and are fond of dwell- 
ing on the rude scenes and ridiculous events that distinguish the 
history of a new settlement, as the hunter is known to pine for the 
forest. 

To this period of fun, toil, neighborly feeling and adventure, 
succeeds another, in which society begins to marshal itself, and the 
ordinary passions have sway. Now it is that we see the struggles 
for place, the heart-burnings and jealousies of contending families, 
and the influence of mere money. Circumstances have probably 
established the local superiority of a few beyond all question, and 
the condition of these serves as a goal tor the rest to aim at. The 
learned professions, the ministry included, or what by courtesy are 
so called, take precedence, as a matter of course — next to wealth, 
however, when wealth is at all supported by appearances. Then 
eommence those gradations of social station that set institutions at 


HOME AS FOUHD. 109 ' 

defiance, and which as necessarily follow civilization as tastes and 
habits are a consequence of indulgence. 

This is perhaps the least inviting condition of society that belongs 
to any country that can claim to^ be tree and removed from bar- 
barism. The tastes are too uncultivated to exercise any essential 
influence, and when they do exist it is usually with the pretension 
and eflort that so commonly accompany infant knowledge. The 
struggle "is only so much the more severe, in consequence of the 
late pUe mele, while men lay claim to a consideration that would 
seem beyond their reach in an older and more regulated community. 
It is duriog this period that manners suffer the most, since they 
want the nature and feeling of the first condition, while they are 
exposed to the rudest assaults of the coarse-minded and vulgar; for, 
as men usually defer to a superiority that is long established, there 
being a charm about antiquity that is sometimes able to repress the 
passions, in older communities the marshaling of time quietly 
regulates what is here the subject of strife. 

What has just been said depends on a general and natural prin- 
ciple, perhaps; but the state of society we are describing has some 
features peculiar to itself. The civilization of America, even in its 
older districts, which supply the emigrants to the newer regions, is 
unequal ; one State possessing a higher level than another. Coming 
as it does from different parts of this vast country, the population 
of a new settlement, while it is singularly homogeneous for the cir- 
cumstances, necessarily brings with it its local. peculiarities. If to 
these elements be added a sprinkling of Europeans of various nations 
and conditions, the effects of the commingling, and the temporary 
social struggles that follow, will occasion no surprise. 

The third and last condition of society, in a “ new countrj’-,” is 
that in which the influence of the particular causes enumerated 
ceases, and men and things come within the control of more general 
and regular laws. The effect, of course, is to leave the community 
in possession of a civilization that conforms to that of the whole 
region, be it higher or be it lower, and with the division into castes 
that are more or less rigidly maintained, according to circumstances. 

The periods, as the astronorners call the time taken in a celestial 
revolution, of the two first of these epochs in the history of a settle- 
ment, depend very much on its advancement in wealth and in num- 
bers. In some places, the pastoral age, or that of good fellowship, 
continues for a whole life, to the obvious retrogression of the people 
in most of the higher qualities, but to their manifest advantage, 
however, in the pleasures of the time being; while, in others, it 
passes away rapidly, like the buoyant animal jo3^s that live their 
time between foiirteen and twenty. 

The second period is usually ol longer duration, the migratory - 
habits of the American people keeping society more unsettled than 
might otherwise prove to be the case. It may be said never to cease 
entirely, until the great majority of the living generation are natives 
of the region, knowing no other means of comparison than those 
under which they have passed their days. Even when this is the 
case, there is commonly so large an infusion of the birds of passage, 
men wiio are adventurers in quest of advancement, and who live 
without the charities of a neighborhood, as they may be said almost 


110 


HOME AS FOUND. 


to live without a home, that there is to be found for a long time s 
middle state of society, during wliich it may be questioned tvhether 
a community belona-s to the second or to the third of the periods 
named. 

Templeton was properly in this equivocal condition, for while the 
third generation of the old settlers were in active life, so many 
passers-by came and went, that the influence of the latter nearly 
neutralized that of time and the natural order of things. Its popu- 
lation was pretty equally divided between the descendants of the 
earlier inhabitants and those who flitted like swallows and other 
migratory birds. All of those who had originally entered the region 
in the pride of manhood, and had been active in converting the wil- 
derness into the abodes of civilized men, it they had not been literally 
gathered to their father in a physical sense, had been laid, the firs*t 
of their several races, beneath those sods that were to cover the 
heads of so many of their descendants. A few still remained among 
those who entered the wilderness in young manhood, but the events, 
of the first period we have designated and which we have imperfect- 
ly recorded in another work, were already passing into tradition. 
Among these original settlers some portion of the feeling that had 
distinguished their earliest communion with their neighbors yet con- 
tinued, and one of their greatest delights was to talk of the hard- 
ships and privations of their younger days, as the veteran loves ta 
discourse of his marches, battles, scars, and sieges. It would be too 
much to say that these persons viewed the more ephemeral part of 
tire population with distrust, for their familiarity with changes ac- 
customed them to new faces; but they had a secret inclination for 
each other, preferred those who could enter the mcst sincerely into 
their own feelings, and naturally loved their communion best, where 
they found the most sympathy. To this fragment of the community 
belonged nearly all there was to be found of that sort of sentiment 
which is connected with locality; adventure, with them, supplying 
the place of lime; while the natives of the spot, wanting in the 
recollections that had so many charms for their fathers, were not yet 
brought sufliciently within the influence of traditionary interest, to 
feel "that hallowed sentiment in its proper force. As opposed in 
feeling to these relics of the olden time were the birds of passage so 
often named, a numerous and restless class, that of themselves are 
almost sufficient to destroy whatever there is of poetry or of local 
attachment in any region where they resort. 

In Templeton and its adjacent district, however, the two hostile 
influences might be said to be nearly equal, the descendants of the 
falhers of the country beginning to make a manly stand against the 
looser sentiment, or the want of sentiment, that so singularly dis- 
tinguishes the migratory bands. The first did begin to consider the 
temple in which their fathers had worshiped more hallowed than 
strange altars; the sods that covered their fathers’ heads more sacred 
than the clods that were upturned by the plow; and the places of 
their childhood and childish sports dearer than the highway trodden 
by a nameless multitude. 

Such, then, were the elements of the society into which we have 
now ushered the reader, and with which it will be our duty to make 


HOME AS FOUND. Ill 

Slim better acciuainted, as we proceed in the regular narration of the 
incidents of our tale. 

The return of the Efflughams, after so long an absence, naturally 
'pfoduced a sensation in so small a place, and visitors began to appear 
in the Wigwam as soon as propriety would allow. Many false 
rumors prevailed, quite as a matter of course; and Eve, it was re- 
ported, was on the point of being married, to no less than three of 
the inmates of her father’s house, within the first ten days, viz., Sir 
George Templemore, Mr. Powis, and Mr, Bragg; the latter story 
taking its rise in some precocious hopes that had escaped the gentle- 
man himself, in the “ excitement ” of helping to empty a bottle of 
bad Breton wine, that was dignified with the name of champagne. 
But these tales revived and died so often, in a state of society in 
which matrimony is so general a topic with the young of the gentler 
-sex, that they brought with them their own refutation. 

Tne third day, in particular, after the arrival of our party, was a 
reception day at the Wigwam; the gentlemen and ladies making it a 
point to be at home and disengaged, after twelve o’clock, in order 
to do honor to their guests. One of the first who made his appear- 
ance was a Mr. Howel, a bachelor of about the same age as Mr. 
Effingham, and a man of easy fortune and quiet habits. Kature had 
done more toward making Mr. Howel a gentleman, than either cul- 
tivation or association; for he had passed his entire life, with very 
immaterial exceptions, in the valley of Templeton, where, without 
being what could be called a student or a scholar, he had dreamed 
away his existence in an indolent communication with the current 
literature of the da3\ He was fond of reading, and being indisposed 
to contention or activity of any sort, his mind had admitted the im- 
pressions of what he perused, as the stone receives a new form by 
the constant fall of drops of water. Unfortunately for Mr. Howel, 
he understood no language but his mother tongue; and, as all his 
leading was necessarily confined to English books, he had gradu- 
ally, and unknown to himself, in his moral nature at least, got to be 
a mere reflection of those opinions, prejudices, and principles, it 
such a word can properly be used for such a state of the mind, that 
it had suited the interests or passions of England to promulgate by 
means of the press. A perfect bonne foi prevailed in all his notions; 
and though a very modest man by nature, so very certain was he 
that his authority was always right, that he was a little apt to be 
dogmatical on such points as he thought his authors appeared to 
think settled. Between John Effingham and Mr. Howel there were 
constant amicable skirmishes in the way of discussion; for, while 
the latter was so dependent, limited in knowledge by unavoidable 
circumstances, and disposed to an innocent credulity, the first was 
original in his views, accustomeil to see and think for himself, and, 
moreover, a little apt to estimate his own advantages at their full 
value. 

“ Here comes our good neighbor, and my old school-fellow, Tom 
Howel,” said Mr. Effingham, looking out at a window, and perceiv- 
ing the person mentioned crossing the little lawn in front of the 
house, by following a winding foot-path— “ as kind-hearted a man, 
Bir George Templemore, as exists; one who is really American, fo? 


112 


HOME AS FOUHD., 


he has scarcely quitted the county half a dozen times in his life, and 
one of the honestest fellows of my acquaintance.” 

“Ay,” put in John Effingham, “as real an American as any 
man can be, who uses English spectacles for all he looks at, English 
opinions for all he says, English prejudices for all he condemns, 
and an English palate for all he tastes. American, quotha! The 
man is no more American than the ‘ Times ’ newspaper, or Charing 
Cross! He actually niade a journey to New YorK, last war, to 
satisfy himself with his own eyes that a Yankee frigate had really 
brought an Englishman into port.” 

“ His English predilections will be no fault in my eyes,” said the 
baronet, smiling — “ and 1 dare say we shall be excellent friends.” 

“ 1 am sure Mr. Howel is a very agreeable man,” added Grace; 
“ of all in your Templeton coterie, he is my greatest favorite.” 

“Oh! I foresee a tender intimacy between Templemore and 
Howel,” rejoined John Effingham; “and sundry wordy wars be- 
tween the latter and Miss Effingham.” 

“ In this you do me injustice. Cousin Jack. I remember Mr. 
Howel well, and kindly; for he was ever wont to indulge my childish 
whims when a girl.” 

i “ The man is a second Burchell, and, 1 dare say, never came to 
the Wigwam when you were a child, without having his pockets 
stuffed with cakes or bonbons.” 

The meeting was cordial, Mr. Howel greeting the gentlemen like 
a warm friend, and expressing great delight at the personal improve- 
ments that had been made in Eve between the ages of eight and 
twenty. John Effingham was no more backward than the others, 
for lie, too, liked their simple-minded, kind-hearted, but credulous 
neighbor. 

I “You are welcome back — you are welcome back,” added Mr. 
Howel, blowing his nose in order to conceal the tears that were- 
gathering in his ej^es. “ 1 did think of going to New York to meet 
you, but the distance at my time of life is very serious. Age, gentle- 
men, seems to be a stranger to you.” 

, “ And yet we, wffio aie both a few months older than yourself, 

Howel,” returned Mr. Effingham, kindly, “ have managed to over- 
come the distance you have pist mentioned in order to come and see 
you!” 

“ Ay, you are great travelers, gentlemen, very great travelei’s, and 
are accustomed to motion. Been quite as far as Jerusalem, 1 hear!” 
i “ Into its very gates, my good friend; and 1 wish, with all my 
heart, we had had you in our company. Such a journey might cure 
you of the home malady.” 

} “ 1 am a fixture, and never expect to look upon the ocean now* 

\ 1 did, at one period of my life, fancy such an event might happen, 

\ but 1 have finally abandoned all hope on that subject. Well, Miss 
• Eve, of all the countries in which you have dwelt, to which do you 
give the preference?” 

“1 think Italy is the general favorite,” Eve answered, with ft 
friendly smile; “ although there are some agreeable things peculiar 
to almost every country.” 

“Italy! AVell, that astonishes me a good deal! 1 never knew 


HOME AS FOUND. , IIS 

there was anythiog particularly interesting about Italy! 1 should 
have expected you to say England.” 

‘‘England is a fine country, too, certainly; but it wants many 
things that Italy enjoys.” 

‘‘Well, now, what?” said Mr. Howel, shifting his legs from one- 
knee to the other, in order to be more convenient to listen, or, if 
necessary, to object. ‘‘ "What can Italy possess, that England does 
not enjoy in a still greater degree?” 

‘‘ Its recollections, for one thing, and all that interest which time 
and great events throw around a region.” 

‘‘ And is England wanting in recollections and great events? Are- 
there not the Conqueror, or, if you will. King Alfred, and Queen 
Elizabeth, and Shakespeare— think of Shakespeare, young lady — 
and Sir Walter Scott, and the Gunpowder Plot; and Cromwell,. 
Oliver Cromwell, my dear Miss Eve; and Westminster Abbey, and 
London Bridge, and George IV., the descendant of a liiie of real 
kings? What in the name of Heaven can Italy possess to equal the 
interest one feels in such things as these?” 

‘‘ They are very interesting, no doubt,” said Eve, endeavoring not 
to smile— ‘‘ but Italy has its relics of former ages too; you forget the 
Cassars.” 

‘‘ Very good sort of persons for barbarous times, 1 dare say, but 
what can they be to the English monarchs? 1 would rather look 
upon a bond fide English king, than see all the Caesars that ever 
lived. 1 never can think any man a real king but the King of Eng- 
land.” 

‘‘ INot King Solomon?” cried John Effingham. 

‘‘Oh! he was a Bible king, and one never thinks of them. Italy! 
well, this 1 did not expect from your father’s daughter! Your great- 
great-great-grandfather must have been an Englishman born, Mr. 
Effingham?” 

‘‘ 1 have reason to think he was, sir.” 

‘‘ And Milton, and Dryden, and l^ewton, and Locke! These are 
prodigious names, and worth all the Caesars put together. A Pope,, 
too; what have they got in Italy to compare to Pope?” 

‘‘ They have at least the Pope,” said Eve, laughing. 

“And then there are the Boar’s Head in East Cheap; and the 
Tower; and Queen Anne, and all the wits of her reign; and— and 
—and Titus Oates; and Bos worth Field; and Smithfield, where the 
martyrs were burned, and a thousand more spots and persons of in- 
tense interest in Old England!” 

“ Quite true,” said John Effingham, with an air of sympathy— 
“but. Howel, you have forgotten Peeping lorn of Coventry, and 
the climate!” 

“ And Holyrood House, and York Minster, and St. Paul’s,’' con- 
tinued the worthy Mr. Howel, too much bent on a catalogue of ex- 
cellences that to him were sacred, to heed the interruption; “and 
above all, Windsor Castle. What is there in the world to equal 
Windsor Castle as a royal residence?” 

Want of breath now gave Eve an opportunity to reply, and she 
seized it with an eagerness that she was the first to laugh at herself 
afterward. 

“ Caserta is no mean house, Mr. Howel; and in my poor judg- 


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ment, there is more real magnificence in its great staircase than in ail 
Windsor Castle united, if you except the chapel.” 

“ But !St. Paul’s.” 

‘‘ Why, St. Peter’s may be set down quite fairly, I think, for its 
pendant at least.” 

” True, the Catholics do say so,” returned Mr. Howel, with the 
deliberation one uses when he greatly distrusts his own concession; 

but I have always considered it one of their frauds. 1 don’t think 
there can be anything finer than St Paul’s. Then there fire the 
noble ruins of England! They, you must admit, are unrivaled.” 

“ The Temple of Neptune, at 'Psestum, is commonly thought an 
interesting ruin, Mr. Howel.” 

‘‘Yes, yes, for a temple, I dare say; though Ido not remember to 
have ever beard of it before. But no temple can ever compare to a 
ruined abbey.” 

‘‘ Taste is an arbitrary thing, Tom Howel, as you and 1 know, 
when, as boys, we quarreled about the beauty of our ponies,” 
said Mr. Effingham, willing to put an end to a discussion that he 
■thought a little premature after so long an absence. ‘‘ Here are two 
young friends who shared the hazards of our late passage with us, 
•and to whom in a great degree w'e owe our present happy security, 
and 1 am anxious to make you acquainted with them. This is our 
•countryman, Mr. Powis, and this is an English friend, who 1 am 
certain will be happy to know so warm an admirer of his own coun- 
try — Sir George Templemore. ” 

Mr. Howel had never before seen a titled Englishman, and he was 
taken so much by surprise that he made his salutations rather awk- 
wardly. As both the j^oung men, however, met him with the re- 
spectful ease that denotes familiarity with the world, he soon recov- 
ered his self-possession. 

‘‘ 1 hope you have brought back with you a sound American 
heart. Miss Eve,” resumed the guest, as soon as this little interrup- 
tiou had ceased. ‘‘We have iiad sundry rumors of French mar- 
quises and German barons; but 1 have all along trusted too much 
to your patriotism to believe you would marry a foreigner.” 

‘‘ 1 hope you except Englishmen,” cried Sir George, gayly; ” we 
are almost the same people.” 

“lam proud to hear you say so, sir. Nothing flatters me more 
than to be thought English; and 1 certainly shoula not have accused 
Miss Effingbam of a want of love of country, had — ” 

‘ She married half a dozen Englishmen,” interrupted John EflSng- 
ham, who saw that the old theme was in danger of being revived. 

‘‘ But, Howel, you have paid me no compliments on the changes in 
the house. 1 hope they are to your taste.” 

‘‘ A little too French, Mr. John.” 

‘‘French! There is not a French feature in the whole animal. 
What has put such a notion into your head?’' 

‘‘ It is the common opinion, and 1 confess 1 should like the build- 
ing better were it less continental.” 

‘‘Why, my old friend, it is a nondescript-original— Effingham 
upon Doolittle, if you will; and, as for models, it is rather more 
^English than anything else. ” 

‘‘ Well, Mr. Johir, 1 am glad to hear this, for 1 do confess to a 


HOME AS FOUND. 


115 

disposition rather to like tlie house. 1 am dying to know, Miss Eve, 
if you saw all our distinguished contemporaries when in Europe? 
That to me would be one of the greatest delights of traveling!” 

‘‘ To say that we saw them all, might be too much; though we 
certainly did meet with m.any.” 

” Bcott, of course.” 

” tSir Waiter we had the pleasure of meeting a few times, in Lon- 
don.” 

” And Southey, and Coleridge, and Wordsworth, and Moore, and 
Bulwer, and D ’Israeli, and Rogers, and Campbell, and the grave of 
Byron, and Horace Smith, and Miss Landon, and Barry Cornwall, 
and — ” 

” Cum multis aliis,” put in John Effingham, again, by way of 
arresting the torrent of names. ‘‘Eve saw many of these, and, as 
Tubal told Shylock, ‘ we often came where we did hear ’ of the 
rest. But you say nothing, friend Tom, of Goethe, and Tieck, and 
Schlegel and Lamartine, Chateaubriand, Hugo, Delavigne, Mickre- 
wicz, Nota, Manzoni, Niccolini, etc., etc.” 

Honest, well-meaning Mr. Howel listened to the catalogue that 
the other ran volubly over, in silent wonder; for, with the excep- 
tion of one or two of these distinguished men, he had never even 
heard of them; and, in the simplicity of his heart, unconsciously to 
himself, he had got to believe that there was no great personage still 
living of whom he did not know something. 

“Ah, here comes young Wenham, by way of preserving the 
equilibrium,” resumed John Effingham, looking out of a window. 
‘‘ 1 rather think you must have forgotten him, Ned, though you re- 
member his father, beyond question.” 

Mr. Effingham and his cousin w'ent out into the hall to receive 
the new guest, with whom the latter had become acquainted while 
superintending the repairs of the Wigwam. 

Mr. Wenham was the son of a successful lawyer in the county, 
and, being an only child, he had also succeeded to an easy inde- 
pendence. His age, however, brought him rather into the genera- 
tion to which Eve belonged, than into that of the father; and, if Mr. 
Howel was a reflection, or rather a continuation, of all the provin- 
cial notions that America entertained of England forty years ago, 
Mr. Wenham might almost be said to belong to the opposite school,, 
and to be as ultra- American as his neighbor was ultra-British. It 
there is la jeune France, there is also la jeune Amenque, although 
the votaries of the latter march with less hardy steps than the vota- 
ries of the first. Mr. Wenham fancied himself a paragon of national 
independence, and was constantly talking of American excellences, 
though the ancient impressions still lingered in his moral system, as 
men look askance for the ghosts which frightened their childhood 
on crossing a church-yard in the dark. John Effingham knew the- 
'penchant of the young man, and when he said that he came happily 
to preserve the equilibrium, he alluded to this striking difference in 
the characters of their two friends. 

The introductions and salutations over, we shall resume the con- 
versation that succeeded in the drawing-room. 

‘‘ You must be much gratified. Miss Effingham,” observed Mr. 
Wenham, who, like a true American, being a young man himself, 


116 


HOME AS FOUND. 


supposed it de ngueur to address a young lady in preference to any 
other present, “ with the great progress made by our country since 
you went abroad.” 

Eve simply answered that her extreme youth, when she left home, 
had prevented her from retaining any precise notions on such sub- 
jects. 

“ I dare say it is all very true,” she added, ” but one, like myself, 
who remembers only older countries, is, 1 think, a little more apt to 
be struck with the deficiencies than with what may, in truth, be im- 
provements, though they still fall short of excellence.” 

Mr. Wenham looked vexed, or indignant would be a better word, 
but he succeeded in preserving his coolness — a thing that is not 
always easy to one of provincial habits and provincial education, 
when he finds his own heau ideal lightly estimated by others, 

‘‘ Miss Effingham must discover a thousand imperfections,” said 
Mr. Howel, ‘‘coming, as she does, directly from England. That 
music, now ” — alluding to the sounds of a flute that were heard 
through the open windows, coming from the adjacent village — 
‘‘ must be rude enough to her ear, after the music of London.” 

‘‘ The street music of London is certainly among the best, if not 
the very best, in Euiope,” returned Eve, with a glance of the eye 
at the baronet that caused him to smile, ‘‘ and 1. think this fairly 
belongs to the class, being so freely given to the neighborhood.” 

‘‘ Have you read the articles siirned Minerva, in the ‘ Hebdomad,’ 
Miss Effingham*'’” inquired Mr. Wenham, who was determined to 
try the young lady on a point of sentiment, having succeeded so ill 
in his first attempt to interest her. “ They are generally thought to 
be a great acquisition to American literature.” 

‘‘ Well, Wenham, you are a fortunate man,” interposed Mr. 
HoTvel, ‘‘ if you can find any literature iu America to add to or sub- 
tract from. Beyond almanacs, reports of cases badly got up, and 
newspaper verses, 1 know nothing that deserves such a name.” 

‘‘We may not print on as fine paper, Mr. Plowel, or do up the 
books in as handsome binding as other people,” said Mr. Wenham, 
bridling and looking grave, ‘‘ but so far as sentiments are concerned, 
or sound sense, American literature need turn its back on no litera- 
ture of the day.-” 

‘‘ By the way, Mr. Effingham, you were in Russia; did you hap- 
pen to see the emperor?” 

‘‘ 1 had that pleasure, Mr. Howel.” 

‘‘And is he really the monster we have been taught to believe 
him?” 

‘‘ Monster?” exclaimed the upright Mr. Efiingham, fairly recoil- 
ing a step in surprise. ‘‘ In what sense a monster, my worthy 
friend? Surely not in a physical?” 

‘‘ 1 do not know that. 1 have somehow got the notion he is any- 
thing but handsome. A mean, butchering, bloody-minded looking 
little chap. I’ll engage.” 

‘‘You are libeling one of the finest-looking men of the age,” 

‘‘ I think 1 would submit it to a jury. 1 can not believe, after 
what 1 have read of him in the English publications, that he is so 
very handsome,” 


HOME AS FOUND, 


117 

** But my good neighbor, these English publications must be 
wrong; prejudiced perhaps, or even maTignant.” 

“Oh! 1 am not the man to be imposed on in that way. Besides, 
what motive could an English writer have for belying an emperor 
■of Russia?'’ 

“ Sure enough, what motive!” exclaimed John Effingham. “ You 
ha\e your answer, Ned!” 

“ But you will remember, Mr. Howel,” Eve interposed, “ that 
we have seen the Emperor Nicholas.” 

“ 1 dare say, Miss Eve, that your gentle nature was disposed to 
judge him as kindly as possible; and then, 1 think most Americans, 
ever since the treaty of Ghent, have been disposed to view all Rus- 
sians too favorably. No, no; 1 am satisfied with the account of the 
English; they live much nearer to St. Petersburg than we do, and 
they are more accustomed, too, to give accounts of such matters.” 

“But living nearer, Tom Howel,” cried Mr. Effingham, with 
unusual animation, “ in such a case, is of no avail, unless one lives 
near enough to see with his own eyes.” 

“ Well — well— my good friend, we will talk of this another time. 
1 know your disposition to look at everybody with lenient eyes. 1 
will now wish you all a good-morning, and hope soon to see j'^ou 
again. Miss Eve, 1 have one word to say, if you dare trust your- 
self with a youth of fifty for a minute in the library.” 

Eve rose cheerfully, and led the way to the room her father’s vis- 
itor had named. When within it, Mr. Howel shut the door care- 
fully, and then with a sort of eager delight, he exclaimed: 

“ For Heaven’s sake, my dear young lady, tell me who are these 
two strange gentlemen in the other room.” 

“Precisely the persons my father rrentioned, Mr. Howel; Mr. 
Paul Powis and Sir George Templemore.” 

“ Englishmen, of course!” 

“ Sir George Templemore is, of course, as j’^ou say, but we may 
boast of Mr. Powis as a countryman.” 

“Sir George Templemore! What a superb-looking young fel- 
low!” 

“ Why, yes,” returned Eve, laughing; “ he at least, you will ad- 
mit is a handsome man.” 

“He is wonderful! The other, Mr.-a-a-a— 1 forget what you 
ealled him — he is pretty well too; but this Sir George is a princely 
youth.” 

“ 1 rather think a majority of observers would give the preference 
to the appearance of Mr. Powis,” said Eve, struggling to be steady, 
but permitting a blush to heighten her color, in spite of the effort. 

“ What could have induced him to come up among these mount- 
ains — an English baronet!” resumed Mr. Howel, without thinking 
of Eve’s contusion. “ Is he a real lord?” 

“ Only a little one, Mr. Howel. You heard what my father said 
of our having been f ellow^-travelers. ” 

“ But wfiial does he think of us? lam dying to know what such 
a man really thinks of us.” 

” It is not always easy to discover wffiat such men really think; 
although 1 am inclined to believe that he is disposed to think rather 
favorably of some of us.” 


118 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


“ Ay, of you, and your father, and Mr. John. You have trav- 
eled, and are more than half European ; but what can he think of 
those who have never left America?” 

” Even of some of those,” returned Eve, smiling, “ 1 suspect he 
thinks partially.” 

” Well, 1 am glad of that. Do you happen to know his opinion 
of the Emperor Nicholas?” 

” Indeed 1 do not remember to have heard him mention the em- 
peror’s name; nor do 1 think he has ever seen him.” 

” That is extraordinary! Such a man should have seen everything,, 
and know everything; but I’ll engage, at the bottom, he does know 
all about him. If you happen to have any old English newspapers, 
as wrappers, or by any other accident, let me beg them of you. I 
care not how old they are. An English journal lifty years old is 
more interesting than one of ours wet from the press.” 

Eve promised to send him a package, when they shook hands and 
parted. As she she was crossing the hall, to rejoin the party, Johu 
Elfingham stopped her. 

‘‘ Has Howel made proposals?” the gentleman inquired, in an 
aff€cted whisper. 

” None, Cousin Jack, beyond an offer to read all the old English 
newspapers 1 can send him.” 

” Yes, yes, Tom Howel will swallow all the nonsense that is 
timbre d Londres^ 

‘‘ 1 confess a good deal of surprise at finding a respectable and in- 
telligent man so weak-minded as to give credit to such authorities, 
or to form his serious opinions on information derived from such 
sources.” 

“You may be surprised. Eve, at hearing so ffank avowals of the 
weakness; but, as for the weakness itself, you are now in a country 
tor which England does all the thinking, except on subjects that 
touch the current interests of the day.” 

‘‘Nay, 1 will not believe this! If it were true, how came we 
independent of her— where did we get spirit to war against her?” 

“ The man who has attained his majority is independent of his 
father’s legal control, without being independent of the lessons he 
was taught when a child. The soldier sometimes mutinies, and 
after the contest is over, he is usually the most submissive man of 
the regiment.” 

‘‘ All this to me is very astonishing! 1 confess that a great deal 
has struck me unpleasantly in this way, since our return, especially 
in ordinary society^ but I never could have supposed it had reached 
to the pass in which 1 see it existing in our good neighbor Howel. 

“You have witnessed one of the effects, in a matter of no great 
moment to ourselves; but, as time and 3^ears afford the means of ob- 
servation and comparison, you will perceive the effects in matters 
of the last moment, in a national point of view. It is in human 
nature to undervalue the things with which we are familiar, and to 
form false estimates of those which are remote, either by time or by 
distance. But, go into the drawing-room, and in young ' Wenham 
you will find one who fancies himself a votary of a new school, 
although his prejudices and mental dependence are scarcely less 
obvious than those of poor Tom How’el.” 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


119 


The arrival of more company, among whom were several ladies, 
compelled Eve to deter an examination of Mr. Wenham’s peculiari- 
ties to another opportunity. She found many of her own sex, whom 
she had lelt children, grown into womanhood, and not a tew of 
them at a period of life when they should be cultivating their phj^s- 
ical and moral powers, already oppressed with the cares and feeble- 
ness that weigh so heavily on the young American wife. 


CHAPTER Xlll. 

Nay, we must longer kneel; I am a suitor. 

Queen Katherine. 

The EflQnghams were soon regularly domesticated, and the 
usual civilities had been exchanged. Many of their old friends re- 
sumed their ancient intercourse, and some hew acquaintances were 
made. The few first visits were, as usual, rather labored and form- 
al; but things soon took their natural course, and, as the ease of 
count!}'’ life was the aim of the family, the temporary little bustle 
was quickly forgotten. 

The dressing-room of Eve overlooked the lake, and about a week 
after her arrival, she was seated in it enjoying that peculiarly lady- 
like luxury, which is to be found in the process of having another 
gently disposing of the hair. Annette wielded the comb, as usual, 
while Ann Sidley, who was unconsciously jealous that any one 
should be employed about her darling, even in this manner, though 
so long accustomed to it, busied herself in preparing the different 
articles of attire that she fancied her young mistress might be dis- 
posed to w^ear that morning. Grace was also in the room, having 
escaped from the hands of her own maid, in order to look into one 
ot those books which professed to give an account of the extraction 
and families of the higher classes of Great Britain, a copy of which 
Eve happened to possess, among a large collection of books. Al- 
manacks de Gotha, Court Guides, and other similar works that she 
had found it convenient to possess as a traveler. 

“ Ah! here it is,” said Grace, in the eagerness of one who is sud- 
denly successful after a long and vexatious search, 

” Heie is what, coz?” 

Grace colored, and she could have bitten her tongue for its indis- 
cretion, but, too ingenuous to deceive, she reluctantly told the truth, 
” 1 was merely looking for the account of Sir George Temple- 
more’s family; it is awkward to be domesticated with one of whose 
family we are utterly ignorant,” 

‘‘ Have you found the name?” 

‘‘Yes; 1 see he has two sisters, both of whom are married, and a 
brother w^ho is in the Guards. 13 ut—” 

‘‘ But what, dear?” 

‘‘ His title is not so very old.” 

“ The title of no barOnet can be very old, the order having been 
instituted in the reign of James 1.”- 

” 1 did not know that. His ancestor was created a baronet in 1701, 
I see. Now^ Eve — ” 

“ Xow, what, Grace?” 


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HOME AS FOUND, 


“ "We are both — ” Grace would not confine the remark to herself 
— “ we are both of older families than this? You have even a much 
higher English extraction ; and 1 think I can claim for the Van Cort* 
landts more antiquity than one that dates from 1701!” 

‘‘ No one doubts it, Grace; but what do you wish me to under* 
sand by this? Are we to insist on preceding Sir George, in going 
through a door?” 

Grace blushed to the eyes, and yet she laughed involuntarily, 

‘‘ What nonsense! No one thinks of such things in America,’’ 

” Except at Washingon, where, 1 am told, ‘ Senators’ ladies’ do 
give themselves airs. But you are quite right, Grace; women have 
no rank in America, beyond their general social rank as ladies or no 
ladies, and we will not be the first to set an example of breaking 
the rule. 1 am afraid our blood will pass for nothing, and that we 
must give place to the baronet, unless, indeed, he recognizes the 
rights of the sex.” 

” You know 1 mean nothing so silly. Sir George Templemore 
does not seem to thinlv of rank at all; even Mr. Powis treats him 
in all respects as an equal, and Sir George seems to admit it to be 
right.” 

Eve’s maid, at the moment was twisting her hair, with the inten^ 
tion to put it up; but the sudden manner in which her young mis- 
tress turned to look at Grace, caused Annette to relinquish her grasp^ 
and the shoulders of the beautiful and blooming girl were instantly 
covered with the luxuriant tresses. 

“ And why should not Mr. Powis treat Sir George Templemore 
as one every way his equal, Grace?” she asked, with an impetuosity 
unusual in one so trained in the forms of the world, 

” Why, Eve, one is a baronet, and the other is but a simple gen- 
tleman.” 

Eve Effingham sat silent for quite a minute. Her little foot movedj, 
and she had been carefully taught, too, that a lady-like manner re- 
quired that even this beautiful portion of the female frame should 
be quiet and unobtrusive. But America did not contain two of the 
same sex, years, and social condition, less alike in their opinions, or it 
might be said their prejudices, than the two cousins. Grace Vaii 
Courtlandt, of the best blood of her native land, had unconsciously 
imbibed in childhood the notions connected with hereditary rank, 
through the traditions of colonial manners, by means of novels, by 
healing the vulgar reproached or condemned for their obtrusion and 
ignorance, and too often justly reproached and condemned, and by the 
aid of her imagination, which contributed to throw a gloss and brill- 
iancy over a state of things that singularly gains by distance. On the 
other hand, with Eve, everything connected with such subjects was a 
matter of fact. She had been thrown early into the highest associa- 
tions of Europe; she had not only seen royalty on its days of gala and 
representation, a mere raree-show that is addressed to the senses, or 
purely an observance of forms that may possibly have their mean- 
ing, but which can scarcely be said to hava their reasons; but she 
had lived long and intimately among the high-born and great, and 
this, too, in so many different countries, as to have destroyed the in- 
fluence of the particular nation that has transmitted so many of its- 
notions to America as heir-looms. By close observation, she knew 


HOME AS FOUND. 


121 

that arbitrary and political distinctions made but little difference 
between men of themselves; and so far from having become the 
. dupe of the glitter oX life, by living so long within its immediate in- 
fluence, she had learned to discriminate between the false and the 
real, and to perceive that which was truly respectable and useful, 
and to know it from that which was merely arbitrary and selfish, 
Eve actually fancied that the position of an American gentleman 
might readily become, nay, that it ought to be, the highest of all 
human stations, short of that of sovereigns. Such a man had no 
social superior, with the exception of those who actually ruled, in 
her eyes; and this fact she conceived, rendered him more than noble, 
as nobility is usually grad (rated. She had been accustomed to see 
her father and John Effingham moving in the best circles of Europe, 
respected for their information and independence, undistinguished 
by their manners, admired for their personal appearance, manly, 
courteous, and of noble bearing and principles, if not set apart from 
the rest of mankind by an arbitrary rule connected with rank. Kich 
and possessing all ihe habits that properly mark refinement, of gen- 
tle extraction, of liberal attainments, walking abroad in the dignity 
of manhood, and with none between them and the Deity, Eve had 
learned to regard the gentlemen of her race as the equals in station 
of any of their European associates, and as the superiors of most, in 
everything that is essential to true distinction. With her, even tit- 
ular princes and dukes had no estimation, merely as princes and 
dukes; and, as her quick mind glanced over the long catalogue of 
artificial social gradations, and she found Grace actually attaching 
an importance to the equivocal and purely conventional condition of 
an English baronet, a strong sense of the ludicrous connected itself 
with the idea, 

“ A simple gentleman, Grace?” she repeated slowly after her 
cousin; “ and is not a simple gentleman, a simple American gentle- 
man, the qual of any gentleman on earth— of a poor baronet in par- 
ticular?” 

” Poor baronet. Eve!” 

” Yes, dear, poor baronet; 1 know fully the extent and meaning 
of what 1 say. It is true, we do not know as much of Mr. Powis’ 
family,” and here Eve’s color heightened, though she made a mighty 
effort to be steady and unmoved, “ as we might; but we know he 
is an American; that, at least, is something; and we see he is a gem 
tleman; and what American gentleman, a real American gentleman, 
can be the inferior of an English baronet? Would your uncle, think 
you; would Cousin Jack; proudly, lofty-minded Cousin Jack, think 
you, Grace, consent to receive so paltiy a distinction as a baronetcy, 
were our institutions to be so far altered as to admit of such social 
classifications?” 

” Why, what would they be. Eve, if not baronets?” 

” Earls, counts, dukes, nay, princes! These are the designations 
of the higher classes of Europe, and such titles, or those that are 
equivalent, would belong to the higher classes here,” 

” 1 fancy that Sir George Templemore would not be persuaded to 
admit all this!” 

” If you had seen Miss Eve surrounded and admired by princes^ 


122 


HOME AS FOUND. 


as 1 have seea her, Miss Grace,’' said Ann Sidley, “ you would not 
think any simple Sir George hall good enough for her.” 

” Our good Nanny means a Sir George,” interrupted Eve, laugh- 
ing, “and not the Sir George in question. But, seriously, dearest 
coz, it depends more on ourselves, and less on others, in what light 
they are to regard us, than is commonly supposed. Do you. not sup- 
pose there are tamilies in America Who, if disposed to raise anj^ ob- 
jections beyond those that are purely personal, would object to bar- 
onets, and the wearers of red ribbons, as unfit matches for their 
daughters, on the ground of rank? What an absurdit}’’ would it be 
for a Sir George, or the Sir George either, to object to a daughter of 
a President of the United States, "for instance, on account of station r 
and yet I’ll answer lor it, you would think it no personal honor, if 
Mr. Jackson had a son, that he should propose to my dear father 
for you. Let us respect ourselves properly, take care to be truly 
ladies and gentlemen, and so far from titular ranks being necessary 
to us, before a hundred lustra are past we shall bring all such dis- 
tinctions into discredit, by showing that they are not necessary to 
any one important interest, or to true happiness and respectability 
anywhere.” 

“And do you not believe, Eve, that Sir George Templemore 
thinks of the difference in station between us?” 

” 1 can not ansAver lor that,” said Eve, calmly. ” The man is 
naturally modest; and, it is possible, when he sees that we belong to 
the highest social condition of a great country, he may regret that 
such has not been his own good fortune in his native land; especially, 
Grace, since he has known you.” 

Grace blushed, looked pleased, delighted even, yet surprised. It 
is unnecessary to explain the causes of the first three expressions of 
her emotions, but the last may require a snort examination. Noth- 
ing but time and a change of circumstances can ever raise a prov- 
ince, or a provincial town, to the independent state of feeling that 
so strikingly distinguishes a metropolitan country or a capital. It 
would be as rational to expect that the inhabitants of the nursery 
should disregard the opinions of the drawing-room, as to believe 
that the provincial should do all his own thinking. Political de- 
pendency, moreover, is much more easily thrown aside than mental 
dependency. It is not surprising, therefore, that Grace Van Cort- 
landt, with her narrow associations, general notions of life, origin,, 
and provincial habits, should be the very opposite of Eve, in all that 
relates to independence of thought, on subjects like those that they 
were now discussing. Had Grace been a native of New' England, 
even, she would have been less influenced by the mere social rank 
of the baronet than was actually the case; for, while the population 
of that part of the Union feel more of the general subserviency to 
Great Britain than the population of any other portion of the re> 
public, they probably feel less of it, in this particular form, from 
the circumstance that their colonial habits were less connected with 
the aristocratical usages of the mother country. Grace was allied 
by blood, too, with the higher classes of England, as indeed was the 
fact with most of the old families among the New "iork gentry; and 
tbe traditions of her race came in aid of the traditions of "her colony,, 
to continue the profound deference she felt for an English title. 


HOME AS . EOUHD. 


123 


Evo might have been equally subjected to the same feelings, had she 
not been removed into another sphere at so early a period of life, 
where she imbibed the notions already mentioned — notions that were 
quite as eltectually rooted in her moral system, as those of Grace 
herself could be in her own. 

“ This is a strange way of viewing the rank of a baronet, Eve!” 
Grace exclaimed, as soon as she had a little recovered from the con- 
fusion caused by the personal allusion, “ I greatly question if you 
can induce Sir George Templemore to see his own position with 
your eyes.” 

” No, my dear; I think he will be much more likely to regard not 
only that, but most other things, with the eyes of another person. 
We will now talk of more agreeable things, however; for I confess, 
when 1 do dwell on titles, 1 have a taste for the more princely ap- 
pellations; and that a simple chevalier can scarce excite a feeling 
that such is the theme.” 

“ Nay, Eve,” interrupted Grace, with spirit, “ an English baronet 
is noble. Sir George Templemore assured me that as lately as last 
evening. The heralds, 1 believe, have quite recently, established 
that fact to their own satisfaction.” 

“lam glad of it, dear,” returned Eve, with difficulty refraining 
f rom gaping, “ as it will be of great importance to them in their own 
eyes. At all events, 1 concede that Sir George Templemore, knight 
or baronet, big baron or little baron, is a noble fellow; and what 
more can any reasonable person desire? Do you know, sweet coz, 
that the Wigwam will be full to overflowing next week? that it will 
be necessary to light our council-flre, and to smoke the pipe of many 
welcomes?” 

“ 1 have understood Mr. Powis, that his kinsman. Captain Ducie, 
will arrive on Monda}^ ” 

“ And Mrs. Hawker will come on Tuesda}^, Mr, and Mrs. Bloom 
field on AVednesday, and honest, brave, slraightforw^ard, literati- 
hating Captain Truck on Thursday at the latest. We shall have a 
large country circle, and 1 hear the gentlemen talking of the boats 
and other amusements. But 1 believe my father has a consultation 
in the library, at which he wishes us to be present; we will join him 
if you please.” 

As Eve’s toilet was now completed, the two ladies rose, and de- 
scended together to join the party below. Mr. Effingham w^as stand- 
ing at a table that was covered with maps; wffiile two or three re- 
spectable looking men, master mechanics, were at his side. The 
manners of these men were quiet, civil, and respectful, having a 
mixture of manly simplicity with a proper deference for the years 
and station of the master of the house; though all but one wore 
their hats. The one who formed the exception had become refined 
by a long intercourse with this particular family; and his acquired 
taste had taught him that respect for himself, as well as for decency, 
rendered it necessary to observe the long-established rules of decorum 
in his intercourse w*ith others. His companions, though without a 
particle of coarseness or any rudeness, of intention, were less decor- 
ous, simply from a loose habit, that is insensibly taking the place of 
the ancient laws of propriety in such matters, and which habit, it is 
to be feared, has a part of iis origin in false and impracticable polit- 


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HOME AS FOUND. 


ical notions, that have been stimulated by the arts of demagogues. 
Still not one ot the three hard-working, really civil, and even humane 
men, who now stood covered in the library of Mr. Effingham, was 
probably conscious of the impropriety of which he was guilty, or 
was doing more than insensibly yielding to a vicious and vulgar 
practice. 

“ 1 am glad you have come, my love,” said Mr. Effingham, as 
his daughter entered the room, ” for 1 find 1 need support in main- 
taining my own opinions here. John is obstinately silent; and as 
tor all these other gentlemen, 1 fear they have decidedly taken sides 
against me.” 

“ You can usually count on my support, dearest father, feeble as 
it may be. But what is the disputed point to-day?” 

” There is a proposition to alter the interior ot the church, and 
our neighbor Gouge has brought the plans on w^hich, as he says, he 
has lately altered several churches in the country. The idea is, to 
remove the pews entirely, converting them into what are called 
‘ slips,’ to lower the pulpit, and to raise the floor amphitheater 
fashion.” 

‘‘Can there be a sufficient reason for this change?” demanded 
Eve, with surprise. ” Slips! The word has a vulgar sound, even^ 
and savors of a useless innovation. 1 doubt its orthodoxy.” 

” It is very popular, Miss Eve,” answ^ered Aiistabulus, advancing 
from the window, where he had been whispering assent. “This 
fashion takes universally, and is getting to prevail in all denomina- 
tions.” 

Eve turned involuntarily, and to her surprise she perceived that 
the editor of the “ Active Inquirer ” was added to their party.. The 
salutations on the part of the young lady were distant and stately, 
while Mr. Dodge, wdio had not been able to resist public opinion, 
and had actually parted with his mustachios, simpered, and wished 
to have it understood by the spectators that he was on familiar terms- 
with all the family. 

“ It may be popular, Mr. Bragg,” returned Eve, as soon as she 
rose from her profound courtesy to Mr. Dodge; “ but it can scarcely 
be said to be seemly. This is, indexed, changing the order of things, 
by elevating the sinner and depressing the saint.” 

“You forget. Miss Eve, that under the old plan the people could 
not see; they were kept unnaturally down, if one can so express it, 
while nobody had a goo I lookout, but the parson and the singers in 
the front row of the gallery. This was unjust.” 

“ 1 do not conceive, sir, that a good lookout, as you term it, is at 
all essential to devotion, or that one can not as well listen to in- 
struction when beneath the teacher as when above him.” 

“ Pardon me, miss;” Eve recoiled, as she always did, w^hen Mr. 
Bragg used this vulgar and contemptuous mode of address; “we 
put nobody up or down; all we aim at is a just equality — to place 
all, as near as possible, on a level.” 

Eve gazed about her in wonder; and then she hesitated a moment, 
as if distrusting hef ears. 

“Equality! Equality with' what? Surely not with the ordained 
ministers of the church, in the /Performance of their sacred duties I 
Surely not with the iMiyl” 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


125 

“ We do not look at it exactly in this light, ma’am. The people 
huild the church, that you will allow, JVliss Effingham; even you 
■will allow this, Mr. Effingham.” 

Both the parties appealed to bowed a simple assent to so plain a 
proposition, but neither spoke. 

Well, the people building the church very naturally ask them- 
selves lor what purpose it was built?” 

“ For the worship ol God,” returned Eve, with a steady solem- 
nity ol manner that a little abashed even the ordinarily indomitable 
and self-composed Aristabulus. 

” Tes, miss; for the w.orship of God and the accommodation of 
the public.” 

” Certainly,” added Mr. Dodge; “ for the public accommodation 
and for public worship,” laying due emphasis on the adjectives. 

‘‘ Father, you, at least, will never consent to this?” 

“ Kot readily, my love. 1 confess it shocks all my notions of 
propriety to see the sinner, even when he professes to be the most 
humble and penitent, thrust himself up ostentatiously, as if filled 
only with his own self-love and self-importance.” 

“You will allow, Mr. Effingham,” rejoined Aristabulus, “that 
churches are built to accommodate the public, as Mr. Dodge has 
so well remarked.” 

“ No, sir, they are built for the worship of God, as my daughter 
has so well remarked.” 

“ \ es, sir; that, too, 1 grant you — ” 

“ As secondary to the main object, the public convenience, Mr. 
Bragg unquestionally means,” pul in John Effingham, speaking 
for the first time that morning on the subject. 

Eve turned quickly and looked toward her kinsman. He was 
standing near the table, with folded arms, and his fine face express- 
ing all the sarcasm and contempt that a countenance so singularly 
calm and gentleman-like could betray. 

“ Cousin Jack,” she said, earnestly, “ this ought not to be.” 

“ Cousin Eve, nevertheless this will be.” 

“ Surely not— surely not! Men can never so far forget appear- 
ances as to convert the temple of God into a theater, in which the 
convenience of the spectators is the one great object to be kept in 
viewM” 

“ You have traveled, sir,” said John Effingham, indicating by his 
eye that he addiessed Mr Dodge in particular, “and must have 
entered places of worship in other parts of the world. Did not the 
simple beauty of the manner in which all classes, the great and the 
humble, the rich and the poor, kneel in a common humility before 
the altar strike you agreeably on such occasions; in Catholic coun- 
tries in particular?” 

“Bless me! no, Mr. John Effingham. 1 was disgusted at the 
meanness of their rites, and really shocked at the abject manner in 
which the people knelt on the cold damp stones, as if they were no 
better than beggars.” 

“ And were they not beggars?” asked Eve, with almost a severity 
of tone; “ ought they not so to consider themselves when petitioning 
for mercy of the one great and omnipotent God?” 

“ Why, Miss Effingham, the people will rule, and it is useless to 


126 


HOME AS FOUisD. 


/pretend to tell them that they shall not have the highest seats in the 
church as well as in the state. Really, 1 can see no ground why a 
piarson should be raised above his parishioners. The new-order 
churches consult the public convenience, and place everybody on a 
level, as it might be. Now, in old times, a family was buried in its 
pew It could neither see nor be seen; and I can remember the 
time when 1 could just get a look of our clergyman’s wig; for 1 e 
was an old-school man, and as for his fellow-creatures, one might 
as well be praying in his own closet. 1 must say 1 am a supporter 
of liberty, if it be only in pews.” 

” I am sorry, Mr. Dodge,” answered Eve, mildly, ” you did not 
extend your travels into the countries of the Mussulmans, where 
most Christian sects might get some useful notions concerning the 
part of worship, at least, that is connected with appearances. There 
you would have seen no seats, but sinners bowing down in a mass, 
on the cold stones, and all thoughts of cushioned pews and drawing- 
room conveniences unknown. W'e Protestants have improved on 
our Catholic forefathers in this respect, and the innovation of which 
you now speak, in my eyes, is an irreverent,— almost a sinful— in- 
vasion of the proprieties of the temple.” 

‘‘ Ah, Miss Eve, this comes from substituting forms for the sub- 
stance of things,” exclaimed the editor. ” For my part, 1 can say 1 
was truly shocked with the extravagances 1 witnessed in the way of 
W’orship, in most of the countries 1 visited. Would you think it,*Mr. 
Bragg, rational beings, real bond fide living men and women, kneel- 
ing on the stone pavement, like so many camels in the desert ”— Mr. 
Dodge loved to draw his images from the different parts of the 
world he bad seen — ” ready to receive the burdens of their masters; 
not a pew, jiot a cushion, not a single comfort that is suitable to a 
free and intelligent being, but everything conducted in the most 
abject manner, as if accountable human souls were no better than 
so many mutes in a Turkish palace?” 

“Toil ought to mention this in the ‘Active Inquirer,’” said 
Aristabul us. 

“ All in good time, sir. 1 have many things in reserve, among 
which 1 propose to give a few remarks — 1 dare say they will be very 
worthless ones— on the impropriety of a rational being’s ever kneel- 
ing. To my notion, gentlemen and ladies, God never intended an 
American to kneel.” 

The respectable mechanics w'ho stood around the table did not 
absolutely assent to this proposition; for one of them actually re- 
marked that “ he saw no great harm in a man’s kneeling to the 
Deity;” but they evidently inclined to the opinion that the" new 
school of pews w^as far better than the old. 

“ It alw^ays appears to me. Miss Effingham,” said one, “ that 1 
hear and understand the sermon better in one of the low pews, than 
in one of the old high-backed things that look so much like 
pounds.” 

“ But can you withdraw into yourself better, sir? Can you more 
truly devote all your thoughts, with a suitable singleness of heart, 
to the worship of God?” 

“ You mean in the prayers, now, 1 rather conclude?” 

Certainly, sir, 1 mean in tlie prayers and the thanksgivings.” 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


127 

“ Why, we leave them pretty much to the parson; though 1 ()Wn. 
it is not quite as easy leaning on the edge of one of the new-school 
pews as on one of the old. They are better for sitting, but not so 
good for standing. But then the sitting posture at prayers is quite 
coming into favor among our people, Miss Effingham, as well as 
among j^ours. The sermon is the main chance, after all.” 

“Yes,” observed Mr. Gouge, “give me good strong preaching 
any day. in preference to good praying. A man may get along with 
second-rate prayers, but he stands in need of first-rate preaching.” 

“ These gentlemen consider religion a little like a cordial on a 
cold day,” observed John Effingham, “ which is to be taken in 
sufficient doses to make the blood circulate. They are not the men 
to be pounded in pews, like lost sheep; not they!” 

“Mr. John will always have his say,” one remarked, and then 
Mr. Effingham dismissed the party, by telling them he would think 
of the matter. 

When the mechanics were gone, the subject was discussed at 
some length between those that remained, all the Effinghams agree* 
ing that they would oppose the innovation, as irreverent in appear- 
ance, unsuited to the retirement and self-abasement that best com- 
ported with prayer, and opposed to the delicacy of their owm habits; 
while Messrs. Bragg and Dodge contended to the last that such 
changes were loudly called for by the popular sentiment; that it was 
unsuited to the dignity of a man to be “pounded,” even in a 
church, and virtually, that a good, “ stirring ” sermon, as they 
called it, was of far more account, in public worship, than all th© 
prayers and praises that could issue from the heart or threat. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

“ We’ll follow Cade— we’ll foUow Cade.” 

“ The views of this Mr. Bragg, and of our old fellow-traveler, 
Mr. Dodge, appear to be peculiar on the subject of religious forms, 
observed Sir George Templemore, as he descended the little lawn 
before the Wigwam, in company with the three ladies, Paul Powis, 
and John Effingham, on their way to the lake. “ 1 should think it 
would be difficult to find another Christian who objects to kneeling 
at prayer.” 

“ Therein you are mistaken, Templemore,” answered Paul; “ for 
this country, to say nothing of one sect which holds it in utter 
abomination, is filled with them. Our pious ancestors, like neo 
phytes, ran into extremes on the subject of forms, as well as in other 
matters. When you go to Philadelphia, Miss Effingham, you will 
see an instance of a most ludicrous nature— ludicrous, if there was 
not something painfully revolting mingled with it — of the manner 
in which the men can strain at a gnat and swallow a camel; and 
which 1 am sorry to say is immediately connected with our own 
church.” 

It was music to Eve’s ears to hear Paul Powis speak of his pious 
ancestors as being American, and to find him so thoroughly identify- 
ing himself with her own native Inivl; tor, while condemning so 


HOME AS FOUND, 


128 

many of its practices, and so much alive to its absurdities and con- 
tradictions, our heroine had seen too much of other countries, not to 
take an honest pride in the real excellences of her own. There was, 
also, a soothing pleasure in hearing him openly own that he belonged 
to tbe same church as herself. 

“And what is there ridiculous in Philadelphia, in particular, and 
In connection with our own church?” she asked, “1 am not so 
oasily disposed to find fault where the venerable church is con- 
cerned.” 

“You know that the Protestants, in their horror of idolatry, dis- 
continued, in a great degree, the use of the cross as an outward re- 
ligious symbol; and that there was probably a time when there was 
not a single cross to be seen in the whole of a country that was settled 
by those who made a profession of love for Christ, and a dependence 
on his expiation the great business of their lives!” 

“ Certainly. We all know our predecessors were a little over- 
rigid and scrupulous on all points connected with outward appear- 
ances.” 

“ They certainly contrived to render the religious rites as little 
pleasing to the senses as possible, by aiming at a sublimation that 
peculiarly favors spiritual pride and a pious conceit. 1 do not know 
whether traveling has had the same effect on you as it has produced 
on me; but 1 find all my inherited antipathies to tbe mere visible 
representation of the cross superseded by a sort of solemn affection 
for it, as a symbol, when it is plain and unaccompanied by any of 
those bloody and minute accessories that are so oflen seen around it 
in Catholic countries. The German Protestants, who usually orna- 
ment the akar with a cross, first cured me of the disrelish 1 imbibed 
on this subject in childhood.” 

“ We, also, 1 think. Cousin John, were agreeably struck with the 
same usage in Germany. From feeling a species of nervousness at 
the sight of a cross, 1 came to love to see it; and 1 think you must 
have undergone a similar change, for 1 have discovered no less than 
three among the ornaments of the great window of the entrance 
tower at the Wigwam.” 

“You might have discovered one, also, in every door of the build- 
ing, whether great or small, young lady. Our pious ancestors, as 
Powis calls them, much of whose piety," by the way, was anything 
but ameliorated with spiritual humility or Christian charity, were 
such ignoramuses as to set up crosses in every door they built, even 
while they veiled their eyes in holy horror whenever the sacred sym- 
bol was seen in a church.” 

“ Every door!” exclaimed the Protestants of the party. 

“ Yes, literally every door, 1 might almost say; certainly every 
paneled door that was constructed twenty years since. 1 first dis- 
covered the secret of our blunder, when visiting a castle in France, 
that dated back from the time of the crusade. It was a chateau of 
the Montmorencies, that had passed into the hands of the Conde 
family by marriage; and the courtly old domestic, who showed me 
the curiosities, pointed out to me the stone croix in the windows, 
which has caused the latter to be called croisees, as a pious usage of 
the crusaders. Turning to a door, I saw the same crosses in the 
wooden stiles ; and if 3 'ou cast an eye on the first humble door that 


HOME AS FOUND. 


129 


you may pass in this village, you will detect the same symbol stag- 
ing you boldly in the face, in the very heart of a population that 
would almost expire at the thoughts of placing such a sign of the 
beast on their very thresholds.” 

The whole party expressed their surpise; but the first door they 
passed corroborated this account, and proved the accuracy of John 
Effingham’s statements. Catholic zeal and ingenuity could not have 
wrought more accuate symbols of this peculiar sign of the sect; and 
yet, here they stood, staring every passenger in the face, as it mock- 
ing the ignorant and exaggerated pretension which would lay undue 
stress on the minor points of a religion, the essence of which was 
faith and liumility. 

‘‘And the Philadelphia church?” said Eve, quickly, so soon as 
her curiosity was satisfied on the subject of the door; ‘‘ 1 am now 
more impatient than ever to learn wiiat silly blunder we have also 
committed there.” 

‘‘ Impious would almost be a better term,” Paul answered. 

‘‘ The only church spire that existed for halt a century, in that 
town, was surmounted by a miter, while the cross was studiously re- 
jected.” 

A silence followed; for there is often more true argument in sim- 
ply piesenting the facts of a case, than in all the rhetoric and logic 
that could be urged by way of auxiliaries. Every one saw the egre- 
gious folly, not to say presumption, of the mistake; and at the 
moment every one wondered how a common-sense community could 
have committed so indecent a blunder. We are mistaken. There 
was an exception to the general feeling in the person of Sir George 
Templemore. To his church-and-state notions, and anti-catholic 
prejudices, which were quite as much political as religious, there 
was everything that was proper, and nothing that was wrong, in re- 
jecting a cross for a miter. 

‘‘The church, no doubt, was Episcopal, Powis,” he remarked, 
‘‘ and it was not Roman. What belter symbol than the miter could 
be chosen?” 

‘‘ hlow 1 reflect, , it is not so very strange,” said Grace, eagerly, 
‘‘for you will remember, Mr. Effingham, that Protestants attach 
the idea of idolatry to the cross, as it is used by Catholics.” 

‘‘ And of bishops, peers in parliament, church and stale, to a 
miter.” 

‘‘ Yes; but the church in question 1 have seen; and it was erected 
before the war of the revolution. It was an English rather than an 
American church.” 

” It was, indeed, an English church rather than an American; and 
Templemore is very right to defend it, miter and all.” 

‘‘ 1 dare say a bishop officiated at its altar?” 

‘‘1 'dare say— nay, 1 know he did; and I v^ill add, he would 
rather that the miter were two hufidred feet in the air than down on 
his own simple, white-haired, apostolical-looking head. But enough 
of divinity tor the morning; yonder is Tom with the boat, let us to 
our oars.” 

The party were now on the little wharf that served as a village 
landing, and the boatman mentioned lay ofli:, in waiting for the arrival 
of his fare. Instead of using him, however, the man was dismissed, 


HOME AS FOUND. 


130 

llie gentlemen preterring to handle the oars themselves. Aquatic 
excursions were ot constant occurrence in the warm months, on 
that beautifully limpid sheet of water, and it was the practice to 
dispense with the regular boatman, whenever good oarsmen were to 
be found among the company. 

As soon as the light buoyant skiff was brought to the side of the 
wharf, the whole party embarked; and Paul and the baronet taking 
the oars, they soon urged the boat from the shore. 

“The world is 'getting to be too confined for the adventurous 
spirit of the age,” said Sir George, as he and his companion pulled 
leisurely along, taking the direction of the eastern shore, beneath the 
forest-clad cliffs ot which the ladies had expressed a wish .to be 
rowed; “ here are Powis and myself actually rowing together on a 
mountain lake of America, after having boated as companions on 
the coast of Africa, and on the margin ot the Great Desert, Polynesia 
and Terra Australis may yet see us in company, as hardy cruisers.” 

“ The spirit ot the age is, indeed, working wonders in the wa}’’ 
you mean,” said John Efiiugham. “ Countries of which our fathers 
merely read, are getting to be as familiar las our own homes to their 
sons; and, with you, one can hardly foresee to what a pass of ad- 
venture the generation or two that will follow us may not reach.” 

“ Vraiment e’estfort extraordinaire de se tromersur uii lac Amen- 
cam” exclaimed Mile. Viefville. 

“ More extraordinary than to find one’s self on a Swiss lake, 
think you, my dear Mademoiselle Viefville?” 

” Non, non, mais tout aussi extraordinaire pour une Parmenne.” 

“ 1 am now about to introduce you, Mr. John Effingham and Miss 
Van Corthindt excepted,” Eve continued, “to the wonders and 
curiosities of this lake and region. There, near the small house that 
is erected over a spring of delicious water, stood the hut ot Natty 
Bumppo, once known throughout all these mountains as a renownetl 
hunter; a man who had the simplicity of a woodsman, the heroism 
of a savage, the faith of a Christian, and the feelings ot a poet. A 
better than he, after his fashion, seldom lived.” 

“ We have all heard of him,” said the baronet, looking round 
curiously; “and must all feel an interest in what concerns so 
brave and just a man. 1 would 1 could see his counterpart.” 

“ Alas!” said John Effinghaiu, “ the days ot the ‘ Leather-stock- 
ing ’ have passed away. He preceded me in life, and I see few re 
mains of his character in a region where speculation is more rife 
than moralizing, and emigrants are plentier than hunters. Natty 
probably chose that spot for his hut, on account of the vicinity of 
the spring; is it not so. Miss Effingham?” 

“He did; and yonder little fountain that you see gushing from 
the thicket, and which comes glancing like diamonds into the lake, 
is called the ‘ Fairy Spring, ’ by some flight of poetry that, like so 
many of our feelings, must have been imported; for 1 see no con- 
nection between the name and the character of the country, fairies 
having never been known, even bj'- tradition, in Otsego.” 

The boat now came under a shore, where the trees fringed the very 
water, frequently overhanging the element that mirrored their fan- 
tastic forms. At this point a light skiff was moving leisurely along 
in their own direction, but a short distance in advance. On a hint 


HOME AS FOUiqD. 131 

from John Effingham, a few vigorous strokes of the oars brought 
the I)oats near each other. 

“ This is the flag-ship,” half-whispered John Effingham, as they 
came near the other skifl, ” containing no less a man than the ‘ com- 
modore.’ Formerly the chief of the lake was an admiral, but that 
was in times when, living nearer to the monarchy, we retained some 
of the European terms; now, no man rises higher than a commodore 
in America whether it be on the ocean or on the Otsego, whatever 
may be his merits or his services, A charming day, commodore; 1 
rejoice to see you still afloat in your glory.” 

The commodore, a tall, thin, athletic man of seventy, with a white 
head, and movements that were quick as those of a boy, had not 
glanced aside at the approaching boat until he was thus saluted in 
the well-known voice of John Effingham. He then turned his head, 
however, and scanning the whole party through his spectacles, he 
smiled good-naturedly, made a flourish with one hand, while he con 
tinned paddling with the other, for he stood erect and straight in the 
stern of his skiff, and answered heartily: 

‘‘ A fine morning, Mr. John, and the right time of the moon for 
boating. This is not a real scientific day for the fish, perhaps; but 
1 have just come out to see that all the points and bays are in their 
right places,” 

‘‘ How is it, commodore, that the water near the village is less 
limpid than common, and that even up here we see so many specks 
floating on its surface?” 

‘‘What a queston for Mr. John Effingham to ask of his native 
water! So much for traveling in far countries, where a man forgets 
quite as much as he learns, 1 tear.” Here the commodore turned 
entirely round, and raising an open hand in an oratorical manner, 
he added — ‘‘ lou must know, ladies and gentlemen, that the lake is 
in blow,” 

‘‘In blow, commodore! 1 did not know that the lake bore its 
blossoms.” 

‘‘It does, sir, nevertheless. Ay. Mr, John, and its fruits, too; 
but tire last must be dug for, like potatoes. There have been no 
miraculous' draughts of the fishes of late years in the Otsego, ladies 
and gentlemen ; but it needs the scientific touch and the knowledge 
of baits to get a fin of any of your true game above the water, now- 
adays. Well, 1 have had the head of the sogdollager thrice in the 
open air, in my time, though 1 am told the admiral actually got hold 
of him once with his lumd.” 

‘‘ The sogdollager!” said Eve, much amused with the singulari- 
ties of the man, whom she perfectly remembered to have been com- ‘ 
mander of the lake, even in her own infancy; ‘‘ we must be indebt- 
ed to you tor an explanation of that term, as well as for the meaning 
of your allusion to the head and the open air.” 

“A sogdollager, young lady, is the perfection of a thing. 1 know 
Mr. Grant used to say there was no such word in the dictionary; 
but then there are many words that ought to be in the dictionaries 
that have been forgotten bj’’ the printers. In the way of Salmon trout, 
the sogdollager is their commodore. Now, ladies and gentlemen, 1 
should not like to tell you all 1 know about the patriarch of this 
lake, for you would scarcely believe me; but if he would not weigh 


132 


HOME AS FOUND. 


a liundred when cleaned, there is not an ox in the country that will 
weigh a pound when slaughtered.” 

“'’You say 5’'ou had his head above water?” said John Effingham. 

‘‘ Thrice, Mr. John. The first time was thirty years ago; and 1 
coniess 1 lost him on that occasion by want of science; for the art is 
not learned in a day, and 1 had then followed the business but ten 
years. The second time was five years later; and 1 had then been 
"fishing expressly for the old gentleman about a month. For near a 
minute it was a matter ot dispute between us whether he should 
come out of the lake or 1 go into it; but 1 actually got his gills in 
plain sight. That was a glorious haul! Washington did not feel 
better the night Cornwallis surrendered than 1 fell on that great oc- 
casion!” 

“ One never knows the feelings of another, it seems. 1 should 
have thought disappointment at the loss would have been tire pre- 
vailing sentiment on that great occasion, as you so justly term it.” 

“So it would have been, Mr. John, with an unscientific fisher- 
man; but we experienced hands know better. Glory is to be meas- 
ured by quality, and not by quantity, ladies and gentlemen; and 1 
look on it as a greater feather in a man’s cap to see thesogdollager’s 
head above water for half a minute lhau to bring home a skill filled 
with pickerel. The last time 1 got a look at the old gentleman 1 did 
not try to get him into the boat, but we sat and conversed for near 
two minutes; he in the water, and 1 in the skiff.” 

“Conversed!” exclaimed Eve, “and with a fish, too! What 
could the animal have to say?” 

“ Why, ydUng lady, a fish can talk as well as one of ourselves, 
the only difficulty is to understand what he says. 1 have heard the 
old settlers affirm that the Leather-stocking used to talk for hours at 
a time with the animals of the forest.” 

“ You knew the Leather-stocking, commodore?” 

“No, young lady, I am sorry to say 1 never had the pleasure of 
looking on him even. Be was a great man! They may talk ot 
their Jefiersons and Jacksons, but I set down Washington and Natty 
Bumppo as the two only really great men of my time.” 

“ What do you think of Bonaparte, commodore?” inquired Paul. 

“Well, sir, Bonaparte had some strong 'points about him, 1 do 
really believe. But he could have been nothing to the Leather- 
stocking in the woods! It’s no great matter, young gentleman, to 
be a great man among your inhabitants ot cities— what 1 call um- 
brella iDcople. Why, Natty was almost as great with the spear as 
with the rifle; thougii 1 never heard that he got a sight of the sog- 
doilager.” 

“ We shall meet again this summer, commodore,” said John 
Effingham; “ the ladies wish to hear the echoes, and we must leave 
you.” 

“ All very natural, Mr. John,” returned the commodore, laugh- 
ing, and again flourishing his hand in his own peculiar manner. 

“ The women all love to hear the echoes, for they are not satisfied 
with what they have once said, but they like to hear it over again. 

1 never knew a lady come on the ‘ Otsego’ but one of the first things 
she did was to get paddled to the Speaking Rocks to have a chat 
with herself. They come out in such numbers sometimes, and then 


HOME AS rOUKD. 


133 


all talk at ouce, in a way quite to confuse the echo. 1 suppose you 
have heard, young lady, the opinion people have now got concerning 
these voices.” 

‘‘ 1 can not say 1 have ever heard more than that they are some of 
the most perfect echoes known,” answered Eve, turning her body so 
as to face the old man, as the skiff of the party passed 'that of the 
veteran fisherman. 

” Some people maintain that there is no echo at all, and that the 
sounds we hear come from the spirit of the Leather-stocking, which 
keeps about its old haunts, and repeats everything we say, in mock- 
ery of our invasion of the woods. 1 do not say this notion is true, 
or that it is my own; but we all know that Natty did dislike to see 
a new settler arrive in the mountains, and that he loved a tree as a 
muskrat loves water. They show a pine up here on the side of the 
Vision, which he notched at every new-comer, until reaching seven- 
teen, his honest old heart could go no further, and he gave the mat- 
ter up in despair.” 

“ This is so poetical, commodore, it is a pity it can not be true. 1 
like this explanation of the ‘ Speaking Rocks ’ much better than that 
implied by the name of ‘ Fairy Spring.’ ” 

” Vou are quite right, young lady,” called out the fisherman, as 
the boats separated still further. ‘‘ There never was any faiiy known 
in Otsego: but the time has been when we could boast of a Natty 
Bumppo.” 

Here the commodore flourished his hand again, and Eve nodded 
her adieus. The skiff of the party continued to pull si owl}'- along 
the fringed shore, occasional!}^ sheering more into the lake, to avoid 
some overhanging and nearly horizontal trees, and then returning so 
closely to the land, as barely to clear the pebbles of the narrow 
strand with the oar. 

Eve thought she had never beheld a more wild or beautifully va- 
riegated foliage, than that which the whole leafy mountain side pre- 
sented. More than half of the forest of tall, solemn pines, that had 
veiled the earth when the country was first settled, had already dis- 
appeared; but agreeably to one of the mysterious laws by which nat- 
ure is governed, a rich second growth, that included nearly every 
variety of American wood, had shot up in their places. The rich 
Rembrandt-like hemlocks, in particular, were perfectly beautiful, 
contrasting admirably with the livelier tints of the various deciduous 
trees. Here and there, some flowering shrub rendered the picture 
gay, while masses of the rich chestnut, in blossom, lay in clouds of . 
natural glory among the dark tops of the pines. 

The gentlemen pulled the light skiff fully a mile under this over- 
hanging foliage, occasionally frightening some migratory bird from 
a branch, or a water-fowl from the narrow strand. At length, John 
Effingham desired them to cea,ge rowing, and managing the skiff for 
a minute or two with the paddle which he had used in steering, he 
desired the whole party to look up, announcing to them tliat they 
were beneath the ” Silent Fine.” 

A common exclamation of pleasure succeeded the upward glance; 
for it is seldom that a tree is seen to more advantage than that which 
immediately attracted every eye. Tha pine stood on the bank, with 
its roots embedded in the earth, a few feet higher than the level of 


134 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


the lake, but in such a situation as to bring the distance above the 
water into the apparent height ot the tree. Like all of its kind that 
grow in the dense forests ot America, its increase, for a thousand 
years, had been upward; and It nuw stood in solitary glory, a mem- 
orial of what the mountains which were yet so rich in vegetation had 
really been in their days ot nature and pride. For near a hundred 
feet abore the eye, the even round trunk was branchless, and then 
commenced the dark-green masses of foliage, which clung around 
the stem like smoke ascending in wreaths. The tall column-like 
tree had inclined toward the light when strugcling among its fel- 
lows, and it now so far overhung the lake, that its summit may have 
been some ten or fifteen feet without the base. A gentle, graceful 
curve added to the effect ot this variation from the perpendicular, 
and infused enough of the fearful into tlie grand, to render the pict- 
ure sublime. Although there was not a breath of wind on the lake, 
the currents were strong enough above the forest to move this lofty 
object, and it was just possible to detect a slight, graceful yielding 
of the very uppermost boughs to the passing air. 

“ This pine is ill-named,” cried Sir George Templemore, “ for it is 
the most eloquent tree eye of mine has ever looked on!” 

“ It is indeed eloquent,” answered Eve; ” one hears it speak even 
now ot the fierce storms that have whistled round its tops— ot the 
seasons that have passed since it extricated that verdant cap from 
the thiong of sisters that grew beneath it, and ot all that has passed 
on the Otsego, when this limpid lake lay like a gem embedded in the 
forest. When the Conqueror first landed in England this tree stood 
on the spot where it now stands! Here, then, is at last an American 
antiquity!” 

“ A true and regulated taste, Miss Effingham,” said Paul, ” has 
pointed out to you one of the real charms of the country. Were we 
to think less Of the artificial and more of our natural excellences, wc 
should render ourselves less liable to criticism.” 

Eve was never inattentive w^hen Paul spoke; and her color height- 
ened as he paid this compliment to her taste, but still her soft blue 
eye was riveted on the pine. 

‘‘ Silent it may be in one respect, but it is indeed all eloquence in 
another,” she resumed, with a fervor that was not lessened by 
Paul’s remark. ” That crest of verdure, which resembles a plume of 
feathers, speaks ot a thousand things to the imagination.” 

” 1 have never known a person of any poetry who came under 
this tree,” said John Effingham, ” that did not fall into this very 
train of thought. I once brought a man celebrated for his genius 
here, and after gazing for a minute or two at the high, green tuft 
that tops the tree, he exclaimed, ‘ that mass of green waved there in 
the fierce light when Columbus first ventured into the OnknoMm 
sea.’ It is indeed eloquent; for it tells the same glowing tale to all 
who approach it — a tale fraught with feeling and recollections.” 

“And j^et its silence is, after all, its eloquence,” added Paul; 
” and the name is not so misplaced as one might at first think.” 

” It probably obtained its name from some fancied contrast to the 
garrulous rocks that lie up yonder, half concealed by the forest. It 
you wilt ply the oars, gentlemen, we will now hold a little com- 
munion with The spirit of the Leather-stocking.” 


HOME AS FOUND, 


136 


The young men complied; and in about five minutes the skiif was 
oft in the lake, at the distance of fifty rods from the shore, where 
the whole mountain-side came at one glance into the view. Here 
they lay on their oars, and John Efiiugham called out to the rocks a 
“ good-morning,” in a clear distinct voice. The mocking sounds 
were thrown back again with a closeness ot resemblance that actually 
startled the novice. Then followed other calls and other repetitions 
of the echoes, which did not lose the minutest intonation of the voice. 

‘‘This actually surpasses the celebrated echoes of the Rhine,” 
cried the delighted Eve; *’ for, though those do give the strains of 
the bugle so clearly, 1 do not think they answer to the voice with so 
much fidelity.” 

‘‘ You are very right. Eve,” replied her kinsman, ‘‘ for I can recall 
no place where so perfect and accurate an echo is to be heard as at 
these speaking rocks. By increasing our distance to halt a mile, and 
using a bugle, as 1 well know from actual experiment, we should 
get back entire passages of an air. The interval between the sound 
and the echo, too, would be distinct, and would give time for an un- 
divided attention. Whatever may be said of the ‘ pine,’ these rocks 
are most aptl}’' named; and if the spirit ot Leather-stocking has any 
concern with the matter, he is a mocking spirit.” 

John Efiingham now looked at his watch, and then he explained 
to the party a pleasure he had in store for them. On a sort of small, 
public promenade, that lay at the point where the river flowed out of 
the lake, stood a rude shell of a building that was called the “ gun- 
house.” Here— a speaking picture of the entire security of the 
country, from foes within as well as from foes without — were kept 
two or three pieces of field artilleiy, with doors so open that any one 
: night enter the building, and even use the guns at will, although 
they properly belonged to the organized corps of the State. 

One of these guns had been sent a short distance down the valley; 
and John Efiingham informed his companions that they might look 
momentarily for its reports to arouse the echoes of the mountains. 
Fie was still speaking when the gun was fired, its muzzle being 
turned eastward. The sound first reached the side of the Vision, 
abreast of the village, whence the reverberations reissued, and rolled 
along the range, from cave to cave, and cliff to dill, and wood to 
wood, until they were lost, like distant thunder, two or three leagues 
to the northward. The experiment was thrice repeated, and always 
with the same magnificent effect, the western hills actually echoing 
the echoes of the eastern mountains, like the dying strains of some 
falling music. 

” Such a locality would be a treasure in the vicinity of a melo- 
dramatic theater,” said Paul, laughing, ‘‘ for certainly no artificial 
thunder 1 have ever heard has equaled this. This sheet of water 
might even receive a gondola.” 

” And yet, 1 fear, one accustomed to the boundless horizon of the 
ocean might in time weary of it,” answered John Elfingham, signifi- 
cantly. 

Paul made no answer; and the party rowed away in silence. 

” Yonder is the spot where we have so long been accustomed to 
resort for picnics,” said Eve, pointing out a lovely place, that was 
beautifully shaded by old oaks, and on which stood a rude house 


136 


HOME AS FOUHTa 


that was much dilapidated, and indeed injured, by the hands of 
man. John Effingham smiled, us his cousin showed the place to 
her companions, promising them an early and nearer view of its 
Deauties.” 

“ By the way, Miss Effingham," he said, “ 1 suppose you flatter 
yourself with being the heiress of that desirable retreat?" 

" It is very natural that at some day, though 1 trust a very distant 
one, 1 should succeed to that which belongs to my dear father." 

" Both natural and legal, my fair cousin; but you are yet to learn 
that there is a power that threatens to rise up and dispute your 
claim." 

" What power — human power, at least — can dispute the lawful 
claim of an owner to his property? That Point has been ours ever 
since civilized man has dwelt among these hills; who will presume 
to rob us of it?" 

"You will be much surprised to discover that there is such a' 
power, and that there is actually a disposition to exercise it. The 
public — the all-powerful, omnipotent, overruling, law-making, law- 
breaking public— has a passing caprice to possess itself of your be- 
loved Point; and Ned Effingham must show unusual energy, or it 
. will get it!" 

" xlre you serious. Cousin Jack?" 

" As serious as the magnitude of the subject can render a respon- 
sible being, as Mr. Dodge would say." 

Eve said no more, but she looked vexed, and remained almost 
silent until they landed, when she hastened to seek her father with 
a view to communicate what she had heard. Mr. Effingham listened 
to his daughter, as he always did, with lender interest, and when 
she had done he kissed her glowing cheek, bidding her not to be- 
lieve that, which she seemed so seriously to dread, possible. 

" But Cousin John would not trifle with me on such a subject, 
father," Eve continued; " he knows how much I prize all those lit- 
tle heirlooms that are connected with the affections." 

" We can inquire further into the affair, my child, it it be your 
desire; ring tor Pierre, if you please." 

Pierre answmied, and a message was sent to Mr. Bragg, requiring 
his presence in the library, 

Aristabulus appeared, by no means in the best humor, for he dis- 
liked having been omitted in the late excursion on the lake, fancy- 
ing that he had a community right to share in all his neighbors’ 
amusements, though he had sufficient self-command to conceal his 
feelings. 

" 1 wish to know, sir," Mr. Effingham commenced, without intro- 
duction, " whether there can be any mistake concerning the owner- 
ship of the Fishing Point on the west side of the lake." 

" Certainly not, sir; it belongs to the public.” 

Mr. Effingham’s cheek glowed, and he looked astonished; but he 
remained calm. 

" The public! Do you gravely affirm, Mr. Bragg, that the public 
pretends to claim that Point?" 

" Claim, Mr. Effingham! as long as 1 have resided in this couuty, 
1 have never heard its right disputed." 

" Your residence in this county, sir, is not of very ancient date, 


HOME AS FOUND. 


137 

and nothing is easier than that you may be mistaken. 1 confess 
some curiosity to know in what manner tin; public has acquired its 
title to the spot. You are a lawyer, Mr. Bragg, and may give an in- 
telligible account of it.” 

” Why, sir, your father gave it to them in his life-time. Every- 
body, in all this region, will tell you as much as this.” 

“ Do you suppose, Mr. Bragg, there is anybody in all this legion 
who will swear to the fact? Proof, you well know, is very requisite 
even to obtain justice.” 

“ 1 much question, sir, if there be anybody in all this region that 
will not swear to the fact. It is the common tradition of the whole 
country; and, to be frank with your, sir, there is a little displeasure, 
because Mr. John Effingham has talked of giving private entertain- 
ments on the Point. ” 

” This, then, only shows how idly and inconsiderately the tradi- 
tions of The country lake their rise. But, as 1 wish to understand, 
all the points of the case, do me the favor to walk into the village, 
and inquire of those whom 3 'ou think the best informed in the mat- 
ter what they know of the Point, in order that 1 rnaj" regulate my 
course accordingly. Be particular, if you please, on the subject of 
title, as one would not wish to move in the dark.” 

Aristabulus quitted the house immediately, and Eve, perceiving 
that things were in the right train, left her father alone to meditate 
on what had just passed. Mr. Effingham walked up and down his 
library for some time, much disturbed, for the spotdn question was 
identified with all his early feelings and recollections; and if there 
were a foot of land on earth to which he was moie attached than to 
all others, next to his immediate residence, it was this. Still, he 
could not conceal from himself, in spite of his opposition to John 
Effingham’s sarcasms, that his native country had undergone many 
changes since he last resided in it, and that some of these changes 
wmre quite sensibly for the worse. The spirit ot misrule was abroad, 
and the lawless and unprincipled held bold language, when it suited 
their purpose to intimidate. As he ran over in his mind, however, 
the facts of the case, and the nature of his right, he smiled to think 
that any one should contest it, and sat down to his writing, almost 
forgetting that there had been any question at all on the unpleasant 
subject. 

Aristabulus was absent tor several hours, nor did he return until 
Mr. Effingham was dressed for dinner, and alone in the library 
again, having absolutely lost all recollection of the commission ho 
had given his agent 

“ It is as I told you, sir — the public insists that it owns the Point; 
and 1 feel it my duty to say, Mr. Effingham, that the public is de- 
termined to maintain its claim.” 

‘‘ Then, Mr. Bragg, it is proper 1 should tell the public that it is 
not the owner of the Point, but that 1 am its owner, and that 1 am 
determined to maintain my claim.” 

‘‘ It is hard to kick against the pricks, Mr. Effingham.” 

” It is so, sir, as the public will discover, if it persevere in invad- 
ing a private right.” 

“ Why, sir, some of those with whom 1 have conversed have 


138 


HOME AS FOUNDo 


gone so far as to desire iJie to tell you — I trust niy motive will not 
be mistaken—” 

” It you have any communiction to make, Mr. Bragg, do it with- 
out reserve. It is proper 1 should know the truth exactly.” 

” Well, then, sir, 1 am the bearer of something like a defiance; the 
people wish you to know that they hold your right cheaply, aijdlhat 
they laugh at it. Not to mince matt<irs, they defy you.” 

‘‘ 1 thank you for this frankness, Mr. Bragg, and it increases my 
respect for your character. Affairs are now at such a pass that it is 
necessary to act. If you will amuse yourself with a book for a mo- 
ment, 1 shall have further occasion for your kindness.” 

Aristabulus did not read, for he was too much tilled with wonder 
at seeing a man so coolly set about contending with that awful 
public which he himself as habitually deferred to as any Asiatic 
slave defers to his monarch. Indeed, nothing but his being sustained 
by that omnipotent power, as he viewed the power of the public to 
be, had emboldened him to speaK so openly to his employer, for 
Aristabulus felt a secret confidence, that, right or wrong, it was al- 
ways safe in America to make the most fearless professions in 
favor of the great body of the community. In the meantime, Mr. 
Effingham wrote a simple advertisement against trespassing on the 
property in question, and handed it to the other, with a request that 
he should have it inserted in the number of the village paper that 
was to appear next morning. Mr. Bragg took the advertisement, 
and went to execute the duly without comment. 

The evening, arrived before Mr. Effingham was again alone, 
when, being 1)7 himself in the library once more, Mr. Bragg en- 
tered, full of his subject. He was followed by John Effingham, 
who had gained an inkling of what had passed. 

”1 regret to say, Mr. Effingham,” Aristabulus commenced, 
” that your advertisement has created one of the greatest excite- 
ments it has ever been my ill-fortune to witness in Templeton.”, 

” All of which ought to be very encouraging to us, Mr. Bragg, as 
men under excitement are usually wrong.” 

‘‘Very true, sir, as regards individual excitemeni, but this is a 
public excitement.” 

‘‘ I am not at all aware that that tact in the least alters the case. 
If one excited man is apt to do silly things, half a dozen backers 
will be very likely to increase his lolly.” 

Aristabulus listened with wonder, for excitement was one of the 
means for effecting public objects, so much practiced by men of his 
habits, that it had never crossed his mind that any single individual 
could be indifferent to its effect. To own the truth he had antici- 
pated so much unpopularity from his unavoidable connection with 
the affair, as to have contributed himself in producing the excite- 
ment, with the hope of “choking Mr. Effingham off,” as he had 
elegantly expressed it to one of his intimates, in the vernacular of 
the country. 

“ A public excitement is a pow’erful engine, Mr. Effingham,” he 
exclaimed, in a sort of politico-pious horror.” 

“lam fully aware, sir, that it may be even a fearfully powerful 
engine. Excited men, acting in masses, compose what are called 
mobs, and have committed a thousand excesses,” 


HOME AS FOUNP. 139 

'• Tour advertisement is, to the last degree, disrelished; to be very 
sincere, it is awtully unpopular!” 

“ 1 suppose it is always what you term an unpopular act, so far 
as the individuals opposed are concerned, to resist aggression.” 

‘‘ But they call your advertisement aggression, sir.” 

“ In that simple fact exist all the merits of the question. If 1 
own tliis property, the public, or that portion of it which is connect- 
ed with this affair, are aggressors; and so much more in the wrong 
that they are many against one; it they owm the property, I am not 
only wrong, but very indiscreet.” 

The calmness with which Mr. Effingham spoke had an effect on 
Aristabulus, and, lor a moment, he Was staggered. It was only for 
a moment, however, as the pains and penakies of unpopularity pre- 
sented themselves afresh to an imagination that had been so long ac- 
customed to study the popular caprice, that it had got to deem the 
public favor the one great good of life. 

” But they say they own the Point, Mr. Effingham.” 

” And I say, they do not own the Point, Mr. Bragg; never did 
own it; and with my consent, never shall own it.” 

‘‘This is purely a matter of fact,” observed John Effingham, 
‘‘ and I confess I am curious to know how or whence this potent 
public derives its title. Tou are lawyer enough, Mr. Bragg, to 
know that the public can hold property only by use or by especial 
statute. Kow, under which title does thrs claim present itself?” 

‘‘ P’irst, by use, sir, and then by especial gift.” 

‘‘ The use, you are aware, must be adverse, or as opposed to the 
title of the other claimants. Now, 1 am a living witness that my 
late uncle permitted the public to use this Point, and that the pub- 
lic accepted the conditions. Its use, therefore, has not been ad- 
verse, or, at least, not for a time sufficient to make title. Every 
hour that my cousin has permitted the public to enjoy his property, 
adds to his right, as well as to the obligation conferred on that pub- 
lic, and increases the duty of the latter to cease iniruding, wdienever 
he desires it. If there is an especial gift, as I understand you to 
say, from my late uncle, there must also be a law to enable the 
public to hold, or a trustee; which is the tact?” 

‘‘ I admit, Mr. John Effingham, that I have seen neither deed nor 
law, and 1 doubt it the latter exist. Still the public must have some 
claim, for it is impossible that everybody should be mistaken.” 

‘‘ Nothing is easier, nor anything more common, than for whole 
communities to be mistaken, and more particularly when they com- 
mence with excitement.” 

While his cousin was speaking, Mr. Effingham went to a secre- 
taire, and taking out a large bundle of papers, he laid it down on 
the table, unfolding several parchment deeds, to which massive 
seals, bearing the arms of the late colony, as well as those of Eng- 
land, were pendent. 

‘‘ Here are my titles, sir,” he said, addressing Aristabulus, point- 
edly; ‘‘ it the public has a better, let it be produced, and I shall at 
once submit to its claim.” 

‘‘ No one doubts that the king, through his authorized agent, the 
governor of the colony of New York, 'granted this estate to your 
predecessor, Mr. Eflingham, or that it descended legally to your im- 


HOME AS FOUHDo 


140 

medial e parent, but all contend that your parent gave the Point to 
the public, as a spot of public resort,” 

” 1 am glad that the question is narrowed down within limits that 
are so easily examined. What evidence is there of this intention on 
the part of my late father?” 

” Common report; 1 have talked with twenty people in the vil- 
lage, and they all agree that the ‘ Point ’ has been used by the pub- 
lic, as public property, from time immemorial.” 

“Will you be so good, Mr. Bragg, as to name some of those who 
affirm this?” 

Mr. Bragg complied, naming quite the number of persons he had 
mentioned, with a readiness that proved he thought he was advanc- 
ing testimony of weight. 

” Of all the names jmu have mentioned,” returned Mr.' Effingham, 
” 1 never heard but three, and these are the names of mere boys. 
The first dozen are certainly the names of persons who can know no 
more of this village than they have gleaned in the last few years; 
and several of them, 1 understand, have dwelt among us but a few 
weeks, nay, days.” 

Have 1 not told you, Ned,” interrupted John Effingham, ” that 
an American ‘ always ’ means eighteen months, and that ‘ time im- 
memorial ’ is only since the last general crisis in the money mar- 
ket!” 

‘‘ The persons I have mentioned compose a part of the population, 
sir,” added Mr. Bragg, ” and one and all they are ready to swear 
that your father, b}^ some means or other, they are not very particu- 
lar as to minutiae, gave them the right to use this propert)^” 

” They are mistaken, and 1 should be sorry that any one among 
them should swear to §uch a falsehood. But here are my titles — let 
them show better, or if they can, any, indeed.” 

“Perhaps your father abandoned the place to the public; this 
might make a good claim.” 

“ That he did not, 1 am a living proof to the contrary; he left it 
to his- heirs at his death, and 1 myself exercisea full right of owner- 
ship over it until 1 went abroad. 1 did not travel with it in my 
pocket, sir, it is true, but 1 left it to the protection of the laws, 
which I trust, are as available lo the rich as to the poor, although 
this is a free country.” 

“ Well, sir, 1 suppose a jury must determine the point, as you 
seem firm; though 1 warn you, Mr. Effingham, as one who knows 
his country, that a verdict in the face of a popular feeling is rather 
a hopeless matter. If they prove that your late father intended to 
abandon or give this property to the public, your case will be lost.” 

. Mr. Effingham looked among the papers a moment, and selecting 
one, he handed it to Mr. Bragg, first pointing out to his notice a par- 
ticular paragraph. 

“ This, sir, is my late father’s will,” Mr. Effingham said mildly; 
“ and in that particular clause you will find that he makes a spe- 
cial devise of this very ‘ Point,’ leaving it to his heirs, in such terms 
as to put any intention to give it to the public quite out of the ques- 
tion. This, at least, is the latest evidence 1, his only son, executor, 
and heir possess of his final wishes; if that wondering and time-im- 


HOME AS FOUNlv. 141 

memorial public of which yr»u speak lias a better, 1 wait with 
patience that it may be produced." 

The composed manner of Mr. Effingham had deceived Ari^ta- 
bulus, who did not anticipate any pi oof so completely annihilating 
to the pretensions of the public, as that he now held in his hand. It 
was a simple, brief devise, disposing of the piece of property in 
question, and left it without dispute, that Mr. Effingham had suc- 
ceeded to all the rights of his father with no reservation or condition 
of any sort.- 

“ This is very extraordinary," exclaimed Mr. Bragg, when he had 
read the clause seven times, each perusal contributine: to leave the 
case still clearer in favor of his employer, the individual, and still 
stronger against the hoped-for future employers, the people. “ The 
public ought to know of this bequest of the late Mr. Effingham." 

" 1 think it ought, sir, before it pretended to deprive his child of 
his property ; or rather, it ought to be certain at least that there was 
no such devise." 

*' You will excuse me, Mr. Effingham, but 1 Ihink it is incumbent 
on a private citizen, in a case of this sort, when the public has taken 
up a wrong notion, as 1 now admit is clearly Ihe fact as regards the 
Point, to enlighten it, and to inform it that it does not own Ihe 
spot." 

‘‘This has been done already, Mr. Bragg, in the advertisement 
you had the goodness to carry to the printers, although 1 deny that 
there exists any such obligation." 

" But, sir, they object to Ihe mode you have chosen to set them 
right." 

" The mode is usual, 1 believe, in the case of trespasses." 

" They expect something different, sir, in an affair in which the 
public is — is— is— all— " 

"Wrong," put in John Effingham, pointedly. "I have heard 
something of this out of doors, Ned, and blame you for your mod- 
eration. "is it true that you had told several of your neighbors that 
you have no wish to prevent them from using the Point, but that 
your sole object is merely to settle the question of right, and to pre- 
vent intrusions on»your family, when it is enjoying its own place of 
retirement?" 

" Certainly, John, my only wish is to preserve the property for 
those to whom it is especially devised, to allow those who have the 
best, nay, the only right to it, its undisturbed possession, occasion- 
ally, and to prevent any more of that injury to the frees that has 
been committed by some of those rude men, who alwa3’'s fancy them- 
selves so completely all the public, as to be masters in their own par- 
ticular persons, w^henever the public has any claim. 1 can have no 
wish to deprive my neighbors of the innocent pleasure of visiting 
the Point, though 1 am fully determined they shall not deprive me 
of my property." 

" You are far more indulgent than 1 should be, or perhaps than 
you will be yourself- when you read this." 

As John Effingham spoke he handed his kinsman a small hand- 
bill, which purported to call a meeting for that night, of the inhab- 
itants of Templeton, to resist his arrogant claim to the disputed 
property. This handbill had the usual marks of a feeble. and vul- 


HOME AS FOUKD, 


142 

<2:ar malignancy about, it, aftecting to call Mr. EtRngliam “ one Mr, 
Eiiingliain,” and it was anonymous. 

‘‘This is scarcely worth our attention, John,” said Mr. Effing- 
ham, mildly. “ Meetings of this sort can not decide a legal title, 
and no man who respects himself will be the tool of so pitiful an 
attempt to frighten a citizen from maintaining his rights.” 

” 1 agree with you as respects the meeting, which has been con- 
ceived in ignorance and low malice, and will probably end, as all 
such efforts end, in ridicule. But—” 

” Excuse me, Mr. John,” interrupted Aristabulus, ” there is an 
awful excitement! Some have even spoken of lynching!” 

” Then,” said Mr. Effingham, “ it does, indeed, require that we 
should be more firm. Do you, sir, know of any person who has 
dared to use such a menace?” 

Aristabulus quailed before the stern eye of Mr. Effingham, and 
he regretted having communicated so much, though he had coiji- 
municated nothing but the truth. He stammered out an obscure 
and half -intelligible explanation, and proposed to attend the meet- 
ing in person, in order that he might be in the way of understand- 
ing the subject, without falling into the danger of luistake. To 
this Mr. Effingham assented, as he felt too indignant at this outrage 
on all his rights, whether as a citizen or a man, to wish to pursue 
the subject with his agent that night. Aristabulus departed, and 
John Eifiugham remained closeted with his kinsman until the family 
retired. During this long interview, the former communicated 
many things to the latter, in relation to this very affair, of which 
the owner of the property, until then, had been profoundly ignorant. 


CHAPTER XV. 

There shall be in England seven half -penny loaves sold for a penny, the 
three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and I will make it felony to drink small 
beer: all the realm shall be m common, and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to 
grass . — Jack Cade. 

Though the affair of the Point continued to agitate the village of 
Templeton next da3^ and for many days, it was little remembered 
in the Wigwam. Confident of his right, Mr. Effingham, though 
naturally indignant at the abuse of his long liberality, through 
which alone the public had been permitted to frequent tlie place, 
and this too, quite often, to his own discomfort and disappointment, 
had dismissed ihe subject temporarily from his mind, and was al- 
ready engaged in his ordinary pursuits. Not so, however, with IVIr, 
Bragg. Agreeably to promise, he had attended the meeting; and 
now he seemed to regulate all his movements by a sort of mysterious 
self-importance, as if the repository of some secret of unusual con- 
sequence. No one regarded his manner, however; for Aristabulus, 
and his secrets and opinions, were all of too little value in the eyes 
of most of the par^v to attract peculiar attention. He found a sym- 
pathetic listener m Mr Dodge, happily; that person having been in- 
vited, through the courtsey of Mr. Effingham, to pass the day with 
those in whose company, though very unwillingly on the editor’s 
part certainly, he had gone through* so many dangerous trials. 


HOME AS FOUKD, 


143 


These two, then, soon became intimate, and (o have seen their 
shrugs, significant whisperings, and frequent conferences in corners, 
one who did not know them mie:ht have fancied their shoulders 
biydened with the weight of the State. 

Hut all this pantomime, which was intended to awaken curiosity^ 
was lost on the company in general. The ladies, attended by Paul 
and the baronet, proceeded into the forest on foot, for a morning’s 
walk, while the two Messrs, Effingham continued to read the daily 
journals that were received from town each morning, with a most 
provoking indifference. IMeither Aristabulus nor Mi, Dodge could 
resist any longer; and after exhausting their ingenuity in the vain 
effort to induce one of the two gentlemen to question them in re- 
lation to the meeting of the previous night, the desire to be doing 
faiily overeame their affected mysteriousness, and a formal request 
was made to Mr. Effingham to give them an audience in the library. 
As the latter, who suspected the nature of the interview, requested 
his kinsman to make one in it, the four were soon alone in the 
apartment so often named. 

Even now that his own request for the interview was granted, 
Aristabulus hesitated about proceeding, until a mild intimation from 
Mr, Effingham that he was ready to hear his communication told 
the agent that it was too late to change his determination. 

“ 1 attended the meeting last night, Mr. Effingham,” Aristabulus 
commenced, “ agreeably to our arrangement, and 1 feel the utmost 
regret at being compelled to lay the result before a gentleman tor 
whom 1 entertain so profound a respect.” 

” There was then a meeting?” said Mr. Effingham, inclining his 
body slightly, by way of acknowdedgment for the other’s compli- 
ment. 

” There was, sir; and 1 think, Mr. Dodge, we may say an over- 
flowing one.” 

“The public was fairly represented,” returned the editor, “as 
many as fifty or sixiy having been present.” 

“ The public has a perfect right to meet, and to consult on its 
claims to anything it may conceive itself entitled to enjoy,” observed 
Mr. Effingham. “ I can have no possible objection to such a course, 
though I think it wmuld have consulted its own dignity more had 
it insisted on being convoked by more respectable persons than those 
who, 1 understand, were foremost in this affair, and in terms better 
suited to its own sense of propriety.” 

Aristabulus glanced at Mr. Dodge, and Mr. Dodge glanced back 
at Mr. Bragg; for neither of these political mushrooms could con- 
ceive of the dignity and fair-mindedness with which a gentleman 
could view an affair of this nature.” 

“ They passed a set of resolutions, Mr. Effingham,” Aristabulus 
resumed, with the gravity with which he ever spoke of things of 
this nature. “ A set of resolutions, sir!” 

“ That was to be expected,” returned his emplo3^er, smiling; “ the 
Americans are a set of resolutions-passing people. Three can not get 
together without naming a chairman and secretary, and a resolution 
is as much a consequence of such an ‘ organization ’ — I believe that 
is the approved word— as an egg is the accompaniment of the cack- 
ling of a hen,” 


144 


HOME AS FOUHH 


“ But, sir, you do not know the nature of those resolutions!” 

“Very true, Mr. Bragg; that is a piece of knowledge I am to 
have the pleasure of obtaining from you.” 

Again Aristabulus glanced at Steadfast, and Steadfast threw baek 
the look of surprise; for to both it was matter of real astonishment 
that any man should be so indifferent to the resolutions of a meet- 
ing that had been regularly organized, with a chairman and sec- 
retary at its head, and which so unequivocally professed to be the 
public. 

‘‘1 am reluctant to discharge this duty, Mr. Effingham, but as 
you insist <->n its performance it must be done. In the first place, 
they resolved that your father meant to give them the Point.” 

” A decision that must clearly settle the matter, and which will 
destroy all my father’s own resolutions on the same subject. Did 
they stop at the Point, Mr. Bragg, or did they resolve that my father 
also gave them his wife and children?” 

” No,^sir, nothing was said concerning the latter.” 

‘‘ 1 can not properly express my gratitude for the forbearance, as 
they had just as good a right to pass this resolution as to pass the 
other.” 

‘‘ The public’s is an awful power, Mr. Effingham!” 

” Indeed it is, sir, but. fortunately, that of the re-public is still 
more awful, and 1 shall look to tbe latter for support, in this 
‘ crisis ’ — that is the word, too, is it not, Mr. John Effingham?” 

” It you mean a change of administration, the upsetting of a 
stage, or the death of a cart-horse; they are all equally crisises, in 
the American vocabulary.” 

” Well, Mr. Bragg, having resolved that it knew my late lather’s 
intentions better than he knew them himself, as is apparent from 
the mistake, he made in his will, what next did the public dispose 
of in the plenitude of its power?” 

” It resolved, sir, that it was your duty to carry out the intentions 
of your father.” 

“ In that, then, we are perfectly of a mind; as the public will 
most probably discover before we get through with this matter. 
This is one of the most pious resolutions 1 ever knew the public to 
pass. Did it proceed any fuitlierv” 

Mr. Bragg, notwithstanding the long-encouraged truckling to the 
sets of men whom he was accustomed to dignify with the name of 
the public, had a profound deference for the principles, character, 
and station of Mr. Effingham, that no sophistry, or self-encourage- 
ments in the practices of social confusion coaid overcome; and he 
paused before he communicated the next resolution to his employer. 
But perceiving that both tiie latter and his cousin were quietly 
waiting to hear it, he was fain to overcome his scruples. 

“ They have openly libeled you, by passing resolutions declaring 
you to be odious.” 

” That, indeed, is a strong measure, and, in the interest of good 
manners and of good morals, it may call for a rebuke. No one can 
care less than myself, Mr*. Bragg, for the opinions of those who 
have sufficiently demonstrated that their opinions are of no valire, 
by the heedless manner in which they have permitted themselves to 
fall into this error; but it is proceeding too far, when a few mem- 


HOME AS EOUIs-D, ' 145 

bers of*" the community presume to take these liberties with a private 
individual, and that, moreover, in a case aftecting a pretended claim 
of their own; and 1 desire you to tell those cf)ncerned, that if they 
dare to publish their resolutions declaring me, to be odious 1 will 
teach them what they now do not appear to know — that we live in a 
country of laws. 1 shall not prosecute them, but 1 shall indict them 
for the offense, and 1 hope this is plainly expressed.” 

Aristabulus stood aghast! To indict the public was a step he had 
never heard of before, and he began to perceive that the question 
actually had two sides. Still, his awe of public meetings, and his 
habitual regard for popularity, induced him not to give up the 
matter without another struggle. 

“ They have already ordered their proceedings to be published, 
Mr. Effingham!” he said, as if such an order were not to be counter- 
manded 

‘‘ 1 fancy, sir, that when it comes to the issue, and the penalties 
of a prosecution present themselves, their leaders will begin to recol- 
lect their individuality, and to think less of their public character 
Tiiey who hunt in droves, like wolves, are seldom very valiant 
when singled out from their pack. The end will show.” 

” 1 heartily wish this unpleasant affair might be amicably settled,” 
added Aristabulus. 

” One might, indeed, fancy so,” observed John Effingham, ” since 
no one likes to be peisecuted.” 

“ But, Mr. John, the public thinks itself persecuted in this affair.” 

" The term as applied to a body that not only makes, but which 
executes the law, is so palpably absurd, that 1 am surprised any 
man can presume to use it. But, Mr. Bragg, you have seen docu- 
ments that cannot err, and know that the public has not the smallest 
right to this bit of land.” 

“All very true, sir; but you will please to remember, that the 
people do not know what 1 now know.” 

” And you will please to remember, sir, that when people choose 
to act affirmatively, in so high-handed a manner as this, they are 
bound to know what they are about. Ignorance in such a mat- 
ter, is like the drunkard’s plea of intoxication; it merely makes the 
offense worse.” 

‘‘ Do you not think, Mr. John, that Mr. Effingham might have 
acquainted these citizens with the real state of the case? Are the 
people so very wrong that they have fallen into a mistake?” 

‘‘ Since you ask this question plainly, Mr.-Bragg, it shall be an- 
swered with equal sincerity. Mr. Effingham is a man of mature 
years; the known child, executor, and heir of one who, it is ad- 
mitted all round, was the master of the controverted property. 
Knowing his own business, this Mr. Effingham, in sight of the 
grave of his fathers, beneath the paternal roof, has the intolerable 
impudence — ” 

” Arrogance is the word, Jack,” said Mr. Effingham, smiling. 

” Ay, the intolerable arrogance to suppose that his own is his 
own; and this he dares to affirm, without having had the politeness 
to send his title deeds and private papers round to those who have 
been so short a time in the place, that they might well know every- 


14C 


HOME AS POUHI). 


thing that has occurred in it for the last half century. thou 
naughty, arrogant fellow, Ned!” 

“ Mr, John, you appear to forget that the public has more claims 
to be treated with attention than a single individual. If it has fab 
len into error, it ought to be undeceived.” 

‘‘ No doubt, sir; and I advise Mr. Eflingham to send you, his 
agent, to every man, woman, and child in the county, with the Pat- 
ent of the King, all the mesne conveyances and wills, in your 
pocket, in order that you may read them at length to each individ- 
ual, with a view that every man, woman, and child, may be satisflod 
that he or she is not the owner of Edward Effingham’s lands!” 

” Nay, sir, a shorter process might be adopted.” 

” It might, indeed, sir, and such a process has been adopted by 
my cousin, in living the usual notice, in the newspaper, against 
trespassing. But, Mr. Bragg, you must know that 1 took great 
pains, three j^ears since, when repairing this house, to correct the 
mistake on this very point into which 1 found that your immaculate 
public had fallen, through its disposition to know more of other 
people’s affairs than those concerned knew of themselves.” 

Aristabulus said no more, but gave the matter up in despair. On 
quitting the house, he proceeded forthwith to inform those most in- 
terested of the determination of Mr. Effingham not to be trampled 
on by any pretended meeting of the public. Common sense, not 
to say common honesty, began to resume its sway, and prudence 
put in its plea, by way of applying the corrective. Both he ana 
Mr. Dodge, however, agreed that there was an unheard-of temerity 
in thus resisting the people, and this too without a commensurate 
object, as the pecuniary value of the disputed Point was of no ma- 
terial consequence to either party. 

The reader is not by any means to suppose that Aristabulus Bragg 
and Steadfast Dodge belonged to the same variety of the human 
species, in consequence of their unity of sentiment in this affair, and 
certain other general points of resemblance in their manner and 
modes of thinking. As a mattei of necessity, each paitook of those 
featuies of cast, condition, oiigin, and association, that chaiacteiize 
iheii particular set; but when it came to the nicer distinctions that 
mark true individuality, it would not have been easy to find two 
men more essentially different in character. The first was bold, 
morally and physically, aspiring, self-possessed, shrewd, singularly 
adapted to succeed in his schemes where he knew the parties, intelli- 
gent after his tastes, and apt. Had it been his fortune to be thrown 
earlier into a better sphere, the same natural qualities that rendered 
him so expert in his present situation would have conduced to his 
improvement, and most probably would have formed a gentleman, 
a scholar, and one who could have contributed largely to the «vel- 
fare and tastes ot his fellow-creatures. That such was not his fate, 
was more his fortune than his fault, tor his plastic character had 
readily taken the impression of those things that from propinquity 
alone pressed hardest on it. On the other hand Steadfast was a 
hypocrite by nature, cowardly, envious, and malignant; and cir- 
cumstances had only lent their aid to the natural tendencies of his 
disposition. That two meu so differently constituted at their births, 
should meet, as it might be, in a common center, in so many of 


HOME AS FOUl^D. 147 

their habits and opinions, was merely the result of accident and 
education. 

Among the other points of resemblance between these two persons, 
was that fault of confounding the cause with the effects of the pecul- 
iar institutions under which they had been educated and Jived. Be- 
cause the law gave to the public that autnority which, under other 
systems, is intrusted either to one or to the f e w, they believed the 
public was invested with tar more power than a right underslanding 
of their own principles would have shown. In a word, both these 
persons made a mistake which is getting to be too common in Amer- 
ica, that of supposing the institutions of the country w^ere all means 
and no end. Under this erroneous impression they saw only the 
machineiy of the government, becoming entirely forgetful that the 
power which was given to the people collectively, was only so given 
to secure to them as perfect a liberty as possible, in their characters 
of individuals. Neither had risen sufficiently above vulgar notions, 
to understand that public opinion, in order to be omnipotent, or 
even formidable beyond the inflictions of the moment, must be right; 
and that it a solitary man renders himself contemptible by taking 
up false notions inconsiderately and unjustly, bodies of men, falling 
into the same error, incur the same penalties, with the additional 
stigma of having acted as cowards. 

There was also another common mistake intp which Messrs. 
Bragg and Dodge had permitted themselves to fall, through the 
want of a proper distinction between principles. Kesisting the popu- 
lar will, on the part of an individual, they considered arrogance and 
aristocracy, per se, without at all entering into the question of the 
right or the wrong. The people, rightly enough in the general sig- 
nification of the term, they deemed to be sovereign, and they be- 
longed to a numerous class, who view disobedience to the sovereign 
in a democracy, althougli it be in his illegal caprices, very much as 
the subject of a despot views disobedience to his prince. 

It is scarcely necessary to say, that Mr. Effingham and his cousin 
viewed these matters differently. Clear-headed, just-minded, and 
liberal in all his practices, the former, in particular, w^as greatly 
pained by the recent occurrence; and he paced his library in silence, 
for several minutes after Mr. Bragg and his companion had with- 
drawn, really too much grieved to speak. 

“ This is altogether a most extraordinary procedure, John,” he at 
length observed, ” and it striices me that it is but an indifferent re- 
ward lor the liberality with which 1 have permitted others to use 
my property tnese thirty years; often, very often, as you well 
know, to my owu discomfort, and to that of my friends.” 

” I have told you, Ned, that you were not to expect the America 
on your return, that you left behind you on your departure for Eu- 
rope. 1 insist that no country has so much altered for the worse in 
so short a time.” 

” That unequalled pecuniary prosperity should sensibly impair 
the manners of what is termed the world, by introducing suddenly 
large bodies of uninstructed and untrained men and women into 
society, is a natural consequence of obvious causes; that it should 
corruiit morals even, we have a right to exj^ect, for we are taught to 
believe it the most corrupting infiiieuce under which man can live; 


148 


nOME AS FOUKD. 


blit 1 confess 1 did not expect to see the day when a body of strang* 
ers, birds ot passage, creatures of an hour, should assume a right to 
call on the old and long-established inhabitants of a country to prove 
their claims to their possessions, and this, too, in an unusual and 
unheard-ot manner, under the penalty of being violently deprived 
otthem!” 

“ Long established!” repeated John Effingham, laughing; “ what 
do you term long-established? Have you not been absent a dozen 
years, and do not these people reduce everything to the level of their 
own habits? 1 suppose, now, you fancy you can go to Rome, or 
Jerusalem, or Constantinople, and remain four or five lustra, and 
then come coolly back to Templeton, and, on taking possession of 
this house again, call yourself an old resident.” 

” I certainly do suppose I have that right. How many English, 
Russians, and Germans did we meet in Italy, the residents ot years, 
who still retained all their natural and local rights and feelings!” 

“Ay, that is in countries where society is permanent, and men 
get accustomed to look on the same objects, hear the same names, 
and see the same faces for their entire lives. 1 have had the curios- 
ity to inquire, and have ascertained that none of the old permanent 
families have been active in this affair of the Point, but that all the 
chimor has been made by those you call the birds of passage. But 
what of that? These people fancy everything reduced to the legal 
six months required to vote; and that rotation in persons is as neces- 
sary to republicanism as rotation in office.” 

‘Ts it not extraordinary that persons who can know so little on 
the subject, should be thus indiscreet and positive?” 

‘‘ It is not extraordinary in America. Look about you, Ned, and 
you will see adventurers uppermost every where ; in the government, 
in ihe towns, in your villages, in the country, even. We are agna- 
tion of changes. IVluch of this, 1 admit, is the fair consequence of 
legitimate causes, as an immense region, in forest, can not be peo- 
pled on any other conditions. But this necessity has infected the 
entire national character, and men get to be impatient of any same- 
ness, even though it be useful. Everything goes to confirm this feel- 
ing, instead of opposing it. Ihe constant recurrences of the elec- 
tions accustom men to changes in their public functionaries; the 
great increase in the population brings new faces; and the sudden 
accumulations of property place new men in conspicuous stations. 
The architecture of the country is barely becoming sufficiently re- 
spectable to render it desirable to preserve the buildings, without 
which we shall have no monuments to revere. In short, everything 
contributes to produce such a state ot things, painfful as it may be 
to all of any feeling, and little to oppose it.” 

” You color highly. Jack; and no picture loses in tints, in being 
retouched by you.” 

” Look into the first puper that offers, and you will see the young 
men of the country hardily invited to meet by themselves, to consult 
concerning public affairs, as if they were impatient of the counsels 
and experience of their fathers. No country can prosper where the 
ordinary mode ot transacting the business connected with the root 
ot the government commences with this impiety.” 

‘‘This is a disagreeable feature in the national character, cer- 


HOME AS POUND. 149 

tainly; but you must remember the arts employed by the design- 
ing to practice on the inexperienced. ” 

“ Had 1 a son who presumed to denounce the wisdom and experi- 
ence of his father, in this disrespectful manner, 1 would disinherit 
the rascal!” 

“ Ah, Jack, bachelors’ children are notoriously well educated and 
well mannered. We will hope, however, that time will bring its 
changes also, and that one of them will be a great constancy in 
persons, things, and the affections.” 

” Time will bring its changes, Ned; but all of them that aie con- 
nected with individual rights, as opposed to popular caprice or popu- 
lar interests, are likely to be in the wrong direction.” 

” The tendency is certainly to substitute popularity for the right, 
but we must take the good with the bad. Even you. Jack, would 
not exchange this popular oppression for any other system under 
which you have lived.” 

” 1 don’t know that — 1 don’t know that. Of all tyranny, a vul- 
gar tyranny is to me the most odious.” 

“ You’ used to admire the English system, but 1 think observa- 
tion has lessened your particular admiration in that quarter,” said 
Mr. Effingham, smiling in a way that his cousin perfectly under- 
stood. 

‘‘ Harkee, Ned, we all take up false notions in our youth, and this 
w^as one of mine; but of the two, 1 should prefer the cold, dogged 
domination of English law, with its fruits, the heartlessness of a 
sophistication tvithout parallel, to being trampled on by every arrant 
blackguard that may happen to traverse this valley in his wander- 
ings after dollars. There is one thing you yourself must admit; the 
public is a little too apt to neglect tue duties it ought to discharge, 
and to assume duties it has no right to fulfill.” 

This remark ended the discourse. 


CHAPTER XVl. 

Her breast was a brave palace, a broad street, 

Where all heroic, ample thoughts did meet, 

Where nature, such a tenement had ta’en. 

That other souls, to hers, dwell in a lane. 

John Norton. 

’ruE village of Templeton, it has been already intimated, was a 
miniature town. Although it contained within the circle of its 
houses half a dozen residences with grounds, and which were dig- 
nified with names, as has also been said, it did not cover a surface 
of more than a mile square; that disposition to concentration, which 
is as peculiar to an American town, as the disposition to diffusion is 
peculiar to the country population, and which seems almost to pre- 
scribe that a private dwelling shall have but three windows in 
front, and ?ifagade of twenty-five feet, having presided at the birth 
of this spot, as well as at the birth of so many of its predecessors 
and contemporaries. In one of its more retired streets (tor Temple- 
ton had its publicity and retirement, the latter after a very village 
fashion, however), dwelt a widow-bewitched, of small worldly 


150 


HOME AS FOUKE. 


means, live cliilclien, and of great capacity for circulating intelli- 
gence. Mrs. Abbott, for so was this demi-relict called, was just on 
the verge of what is termed the “ good society ” of the village, the 
most uneasy of all positions for an ambitious and ci-dexant pretty 
woman to be placed in. She had not yet abandoned the hope of ob- 
taining a divorce and its suites; was singularly, nay, rabidly devout, 
it we may coin the adverb; in her own eyes she was pertection, in 
those of her neighbors slightly objectionable; and she was altogether 
a droll, and by no means an unusual compound of piety, censorious- 
ness, charity, proscription, gossip, kindness, meddling, ill-nature, 
and decency. 

The establishment of Mrs. Abbott, like her house, was necessarily 
very small, and she kept no servant but a girl she called her help — 
a very suitable appellation by the way, as they did most of the work 
of the menage in common. This girl, in addition to cooking and 
washing, was the confidante of all her employer's wandering notions 
of mankind in general, and of her neighbors in particular; as otten^ 
helping her mistress in circulating her comments on the latter, as in 
anything else. 

Mrs. Abbott knew nothing of the Efflnghams, except by a hearsay 
that got its intelligence from her own school, being herself a late ar- 
rival in the place. She had selected Templeton as a residence on 
account of its cheapness, and having neglected to comply with the 
forms of the world, by hesitating about making the customary visit 
to the Wigwam, she began to resent, in her spirit at least. Eve’s deli- 
cate forbearance from obtruding herself where, agreeably to all 
usage, she had a perfect right to suppose she was not desired. It 
was in this spirit, then, that she sat conversing with Jenny, as the 
maid-of-all-work was called, the morning after the conversation re- 
lated in the last chapter, in her snug little pailor, sometimes plying 
her needle, and oftener thrusting her head out of a window which 
commanded a view of the principal street of the place, in order to 
see what her neighbors might be about. 

“ This is a most extraordinary course Mr. Effingham has taken con- 
cerning the Point,” said Mrs. Abbott, ” and 1 do hope the people 
will bring him to his senses. Why, Jenny, the public has used that 
place ever since 1 can remember, and 1 have now lived in Temple- 
ton quite fifteen months. What can induce Mr. Howel to go so often 
to that barber’s shop, which stands directly opposite the parlor win- 
dows of Mrs. Bennett -one wmuld think the man was all beard.” 

“ 1 suppose Mr. Uowel gets shaved sometimes,” said the logical 
Jenny. 

‘‘Not he; or if he does no decent man would think of posting 
himself before a lady's window to do such a thing. Orlando Fiiri- 
oso,” calling to her eldest sou, a boy of eleven, “ run over to Mr. 
Jones’s store and listen to what the people are talking about, and 
bring me back the news, as soon as anything worth hearing drops 
from anybody; and stop as you come back, my sou, and borrow 
neighbor Brown’s gridiron. Jenny, it is most time to think of put- 
ting over the potatoes.” 

‘‘ Ma,” cried Orlando Furioso, from the front door, Mrs. Abbott 
being very rigid in requiring that all her children should call her 
“ ma,” being so much behind the age as actually not to know that 


HOME AS FOUND. 


151 


“ mother ” had got to be much the genteeler term ot the two; “ Ma,’* 
roared Orlando Furioso, “ suppose there is no news at Mr. Jones’s 
store?” 

‘‘Then go to the nearest tavern; something must be stirring this 
fine morning, and 1 am dying to know what it can possibly be. 
Mind you bring something besides the gridiron back with you. 
Hurry, or never come home again as long as you live! As I was 
saying, Jenny, the right of the public which is our right, for we 
are part of the public, to this Point, is as clear as day,* and 1 am only 
astonished at the impudence ot Mr. Effingham in pretending to deny 
it. 1 dare say his French daughter has put him up to it. They say 
she is monstrous arrogant!” 

” Is Eve Effingham French?” said Jenny studiously, avoiding any 
of the usual terms of civility and propriety, by way of showing her 
breeding — ‘‘ well, 1 had always thought her nothing but Templeton 
born!” 

‘‘ What signifies where a person was born? where they live is the 
essential thing; and Eve Effingham has lived so long in France, 
that she speaks nothing but bioken English; and Miss Debby told 
me last week, that in drawing up a subscription paper for a new 
cushion to the reading-desk of her people, she actually spelled ‘ char- 
ity ’ ‘ carrotty.’ ” 

‘‘ Is that French Miss Abbott?” 

‘‘ I rather think it is, Jenny; the French are very niggardly, and 
give their poor carrots to live on, and so they have adopted the 
word, 1 suppose. You, Byansy-Alzumy-Ann (Bianca-Alzuma- 
Ann)!” 

” Marm!” 

“Byansy-Alzumy-Ann! who taught you, to call me marm? Is 
this the way you have learned your catechism? Say ma, this in- 
stant.” 

“Ma.” 

“ Take your bonnet, my child, and run down to Mrs. WJreaton’s, 
and ask her if anything new has turned up about the Point this 
morning; and, do you hear, Byansy-Alzumy-Ann Abbott— how the 
child starts away, as if she were sent on a matter of life and death!” 

“ Why, ma, 1 want to hear the news, too.” 

“ Very likely my dear, but by stopping to get your errand, you 
may learn more than by being in such a hurr3^ Stop in at Mrs. 
Green’s, and ask how the people liked the lecture of the strange par- 
son last evening — and ask her if she can lend me a watering-pot. 
Now, run, and be back as soon as possible. Never loiter when you 
carry news, child.” 

“ No one has a right to stop the man, 1 believe. Miss Abbott,” 
put in Jenny very appositely. 

“ That, indeed, have they not, or else we could not calculate the 
consequences. You may remember, Jenny, the pious, even, had to 
give up that point, public convenience being too strong for them. 
Roger-Demetrius-Beniamin!” — calling to a second boy, two years 
younger than his brother — “ your eyes are better than mine — who 
are all those people collected together in the street? Is not Mr, 
Howel among them?” 


152 HOME AS FOUKB. 

“1 do not know, ma!” answered Roger-Demetrius-Benjamm, 
gaping. 

“ Then run this minute and see, and don’t stop to look for your 
hat. As you come back, step into the tailor’s shop and ask if your 
new jacket is almost done, and what the hews is? 1 rather think, 
Jenny, we shall find out something worth hearing in the course of 
the day. By the way, they do say that Grace Van Cortlandt, Eve 
Effingham’s cousin, is under concern.” 

‘‘Well, she is the last person 1 should think would be troubled 
about anything, foi’ everybody says she is so desperate rich she 
might eat off of silver if she liked; and she is sure of being married 
sometime or other.” 

” That ought to lighten her concern, you think. Oh! it does my 
heart cood when 1 see any of those fiaunty people right well exer- 
cised! Nothintr would make me happier than to see Eve Effingham 
groaning fairly in the spirit! That would teach her to take away the 
people’s Points.” 

” Bu\t, Miss Abbott, then she would become almost as good a 
woman as you are yourself.” 

” 1 am a miserable, graceless, awfully wicked sinner! Twenty 
times a day do 1 doubt whether I am actually converted or not. Sin 
has got such a hold of my very heartstrings, that 1 sometimes think 
they will crack before it lets go. Kinaldo-Kinaldini-Timothy, my 
child, do you toddle across the way, and give my compliments to 
Mrs. Hulbert, and inquire if it be .true that young Dickson, the 
lawyer, is really engaged to Aspasia Tubbs, or not? and borrow a 
skimmer or a tin pot, or anything you can carry, tor we maj’' want 
something of the sort in the course of the day. i do believe, Jenny, 
that a worse creature than myself is hardly to be found in Tem- 
pleton.” 

‘‘ Why, Miss Abbott,” returned Jenny, who had heard too much 
of this self-abasement to be much alarmed at it, ” this is giving al- 
most as bad an account of yourself as 1 heard somebody that 1 won’t 
name, give of you last week.” 

‘‘ And who is your somebody, 1 should like to know? 1 dare say 
one no better than a formalist, who thinks that reading prayers out 
of a book, kneeling, bowing, and changing gowns, is religion! 
Thank Heaven, I’m pretty indifferent to the opinions of such peo- 
ple. Harkee, Jenny, if 1 thought 1 was no better than some per- 
sons 1 could name, I’d give the point of salvation up in despair!” 

‘‘Miss Abbott,” roared a ragged, diiW-faced, bare-footed boy, 
who entered v ithout knocking, and stood in the middle of the room, 
with his hat on, with a suddenness that denoted great readiness in 
entering other people’s possessions; “ Miss Abbott, ma wants to 
know if you are likely to go from home this week?” 

‘‘ Why, what in nature can she want to know that for. Ordeal 
Bumgium?” Mrs. Abbott pronounced this singular name, how- 
ever, ‘‘ Ordeel.” 

‘‘Oh! she warnts to know.” 

‘‘ So do 1 warnt to know; and know I will. Run home this in- 
stant, and ask your mother why she lias sent you here with this mes- 
sage. Jenny, I am much exercised to find out the reason Mrs. Bum- 
grum should have sent Ordeal ovelr with such a question.” 


HOME AS FOUND. 153 

“ 1 did hear that Miss Bumgrum intended to make a journey her- 
self, and she may want your company.” 

” Here comes Ordeal back, and we shall soon be out of the clouds. 
What a boy that is for eriands! He is worth all my sons put to- 
gether. You never see him losing time by going round by the 
streets, but away he goes over the garden fences like a cat, or he 
will whip through a house, it standing in his way, as if he were its 
owner, should the door happen to be open. Well, Ordeal?” 

‘‘ But Ordeal was out of breath, and although Jenny shook him, as 
if to shake the news out of him, and Mrs. Abbot actually shook her 
fist iu her impatience '•to be enlightened, nothing could induce the 
child to speak until he had recovered his wind. 

“ 1 believe he does it on purpose,” said the provoked maid. 

‘‘It’s just like him!” cried the mistress; ‘‘ the very best news- 
carrier in the village is actually spoiled because he is thick-winded.” 

” I wish folks wouldn’t make their fences so high,” Ordeal ex- 
claiiued, the instant he found breath. ‘‘ 1 can’t see of what use it 
is to make a fence people can’t climb!” 

” What does your mother say?” cried Jenny, repeating her shake 
con amoi'e. 

” Ma wants to know. Miss Abbott, if you don’t intend to use it 
yourself, if you will lend her your name for a few da^'^s to go to 
Utica with? She says folks don’t treat her half as well when she is 
call Bumgrum as when she has another name, and she thinks she’d 
like to try yours tl^ time.” 

‘‘ Is that all! !nm needn’t have been so hurried about such a 
trifle. Ordeal. Give my compliments to your mother, and tell her 
she is quite welcome to my name, and I hope it will be serviceable 
to her.” 

” She says she is willing to pay for the use of it, if you will tell 
her what the damage will be.” 

‘‘Oh! it’s not worth while to speak of such a trifle; 1 daresay 
she will bring it back quite as good as when she took it away. 1 
am no such uuneighborly or aristocratical person as to wish to keep 
my name all to myself. Tell your mother she is welcome to mine, 
and to keep it as long as she likes, and not to say anything about 
pay; 1 may want to borrow hers, or something else, one of these 
days, though, to say the truth, my neighbors are apt to complain of 
me as unfriendly and proud, for not borrowing as much as a good 
neighbor ought.” 

Ordeal departed, leaving Mrs. Abbott, iu some such condition as 
that of the man who had no shadow. A rap at the doorinterrupicd 
the further discussion of the old subject, and Mr. Steadfast Hodge 
appeared in answer to the permission to enter, Mr. Dodge and 
Mrs. Abbott were congenial spirits in the way of news, he living by 
it, and she living on it, 

‘‘ You are very welcome, Mr. Dodge,” the mistress of the house 
commenced. ‘‘ 1 hear you passed the day yesterday up at the 
Effinghamses.” 

‘‘ Why, 3 ’’es, Mrs. Abbott, the Effinghams insisted on it, ami 1 
could not well get over the sacrifice, after having been their ship- 
mate so long. Besides, it is a little relief to talk French when one 
has been so long iu the daily practice of it.” 


154 


HOME AS FOUND. 


“ 1 hear there is company at the house?” 

‘‘ Two of our fellow- travelers, merely. An English baronet, and 
a' young man of whom less is known than one could wish. He is a 
mysterious person, and 1 hate mystery, Mrs. Abbott.” 

” In that, then, Mr, Dodge, you and 1 are alike, 1 think every- 
thing should be known. Indeed, that is not a free country in which 
there are any secrets. 1 keep nothing from my neighbors, and, to 
own the truth, 1 do not like my neighbors to keep anything from 
me.” 

” Then you’ll hardly like the Efflnghams, for 1 never yet met 
with a more close-mouthed family. Ahhough 1 was so long iu the 
ship with Miss Eve, 1 never heard her once speak of her want of 
appetite, of seasickness, or of anything relating to her ailings even; 
nor can you imagine how close she is on the subject of the beaux; 
1 do not think 1 ever heard her use the word, or so much as allude 
to any walk or ride she ever took with a single man. 1 set her 
down, Mrs. Abbott, as unqualitiedly artful!” 

” That you may with certainty, sir, for there is no more sure sign 
that a young woman is all the while thinking of the beaux than her 
never mentioning them.” 

“ That 1 believe to be human nature; no ingenuous person ever 
thinks much of the particular subject of conversation. ‘What is 
3miir opinion, Mrs. Abbott, of the contemplated match at the Wig- 
wam?” 

“Match!” exclaimed Mrs. Abbott. “ Whf^ already! It is the 
most indecent thing 1 ever heard of! Why, Mr. Dodge, the family 
lias not been home a fortnight, and to think so soon of getting mar- 
ried ! It is quite as bad as a widower’s marrying within the month. ” 

Mrs. Abbott made a distinction, habitually, between the cases of 
widowers and widows, as the first, she maintained,*, might get’ 
married whenever they pleased, and the latter only when they got 
offers; and she felt just that sort of horror of a man’s thinking of 
marrying too soon after the death of his wife, as might be expected 
m one who actually thougiit of a second husband before the first 
%vas dead. 

“Why, yes,” returned Steadfast, “ it is a little premature, per- 
haps, though they have been long acquainted. Still, as you say, it 
would be more decent to wait and see what may turn up in a coun- 
try that, to them, may be said to be a foreign land.” 

“ But who are the parties, Mr. Dodge?” 

“ Miss Eve Effingham and Mr. John EflQngham.” 

“Mr. John Effingham!’’ exclaimed the lady who had lent her 
name to a neighbor," aghast, for this w’as knocking one of her own 
day-dreams in the head; “ well, this is too much! But he shall not 
marry her, sir; the law will prevent it, and we live in a country of 
laws. A man can not marry his own niece.” 

“ It is excessively improper, and ought to be put a stop to. And 
yet these Effinghams do very much as they please.” 

“1 am very sorry to hear that; they are extremely disagreeable,” 
said Mrs. Abbott, with a look of eager inquiry, as if afraid the 
answer might be in the negative. 

“ As much so as possible; they have hardly a way that you 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


155 


would like, my dear ma’am; and are as close- mouthed as if they 
were afraid of committing themselves.” 

‘‘ Desperate bad news-carriers, 1 am told, Mr. Dodge. There is 
Dorindy (Dorinda) Madge, who was employed there by Eve and 
Grace one day; she tells "me she tried all she could to get them to 
talk, by speaking of the most common things; things that one of 
my children knew all about, such as the affairs of the neighbor- 
hood, and how people are getting on; and though they would listen 
a little, and that is something, 1 admit, not a syllable could she get 
in the way of answer or remark. She tells me that several times 
she had a mind to quit, for it is monstrous unpleasant to associate 
with your tongue-tied folks.” 

” 1 dare say Miss Effingham could throw out a hint, now and 
then, concerning the voyage and her late fellow-travelers,” said 
Stendfast, casting an uneasy glance at his companion. 

” Not she. Dorindy maintains that it is impossible to get a sen- 
timent out of her concerning a single fellow-creature. When she 
talked of the late unpleasant affair of poor neighbor Bronson’s 
family — a melancholy transaction that, Mr. Dodge, and 1 shouldn’t 
wonder if it went to nigh break Mrs. Bronson’s heart— but when 
Dorindy mentioned this, which is bad enough to stir the sensibility 
of a frog, neither of my jmung ladies replied, or put a single ques- 
tion. In this respect Grace is as bad as Eve, and Eve is as bad as 
(frace, they say. Instead of so much as seeming to wish to know any 
more, what does Miss Eve do, but lurn to some daubs of paintings, 
and point out to her cousin what she was pleased to term peculiari- 
ties in Swiss usages. Then the two hussies would talk of nature, 
‘ our beautiful nature,’ Dorindy says Eve had the impudence to call 
it, and as if human nature and its failings and backslidings were 
not a fitter subject for a young woman’s discourse than a silly con- 
versation about lakes, and rocks, and trees, as if she owned the 
nature about Templeton. It is my opinion, Mr. Dodge, that down- 
right ignorance is at the bottom of it all, tor Dorindy says that 4iey 
actually know no more of the intricacies of the neighborhood than 
it they lived in Japan,” 

” All pride, Mrs. Abbott— rank pride. They feel themselves too 
great to enter into the minutise of common folks’ concerns. 1 often 
tried Miss Effingham, coming from England; and things touching 
private interests, that 1 know she did and must understand, she 
always disdainfully refused to enter into. Oh! she is a real Tartar 
in her way; and what she does not wish to do, you never can make 
her do!” 

” Have you heard that Grace is under concern?” 

‘‘ Not a breath of it; under whose preaching was she sitting, 
Mrs. Abbott?” 

” That is more than 1 can tell you; not under the church parson’s. 
I’ll engage; no one ever heard of a real, active, regenerating, soul- 
reviving, spirit-groaning, and fruit-yielding conversion under his 
ministry.” 

“No; there is very little unction in that persuasion generally. 
How cold and apathetic they are in these soul-stirring times! Not 
a sinner has been writhing on their floor. I’ll engage, nor a wretch 


15G 


HOME AS FODNH 


tiansferred into a saint, in the tvvinklinpj ot an eje, that parson. 
Well, we have every reason to he gratehil, Mrs. Abbott,” 

” That we have, for most glorious have been our privileges! To 
be sure, that is a sinful pride that can pufi up a wretched, sinful be- 
ing like Eve Effingham to such a pass of conceit as to induce her 
to think she is raised above thinking of and taking an interest in the 
affairs of her neighbors. Now, for m}’’ part, conversion has so lar 
opened my heart, that 1 do actually feel as if 1 w^anted to know all 
about the meanest creature in Templeton.” 

” That’s the true spirit, Mrs. Abbott; stick to that, and your re- 
demption is secure. J only edit a newspaper, by way of showing 
an interest in mankind.” 

” 1 hope^ Mr. Dodge, the press does not mean to let this matter 
of the Point sleep; the press is the true guardian of the public rights, 
and 1 can tell you the whole community looks to it for support in 
this crisis.” 

” \Vc shall not fail to do our duty,” said Mr. Dodge, looking over 
his shoulder, and speaking lower. ” What! shall one insignificant 
individual, wdio has not a single right above that of the mejinest 
citizen in the county, oppress tliis great and powerful community? 
What if Mr. Effingham (.loes own this point of land — ” 

“But he does not own it,” interrupted Mrs. Abbott. “Ever 
since 1 have known Templeton the public has owmed it. The 
jniblic, moreover, says it owns it, and wdiat the public says iu this 
liappy country is law.” 

‘‘ But, allowing that the public does not own — ” 

” It does own it, Mr. Dodge,” the nameless repeated positively. 

” Well, ma’am, owm or no own, this is not a country in which 
the press ought to be silent, wffien a solitary individual undertakes 
to trample on the public. Leave that matter to us, Mrs. Abbott; it 
is in good hands, and shall be well taken care ot.” 

‘‘I’m piously glad ot it!” 

” 1 mention this to you as to a friend,” continued Mr. Dodge, 
cautiously drawing from his pocket a manuscript, which he prepared 
to read to his companion, who sat with a devouring curiosity, ready 
to listen. 

The manuscript of Mr. Dodge contained a professed account of 
the affair of the Point, It was written obscurely, and was not with- 
out its contradictions, but the imagination of Mrs. Abbott supplied 
all the vacuums, and reconciled all the contradictions. The article 
was so liberal of its professions of contempt for JMr. Effingham, that 
every rational man w^as conipelled to wonder why a quality that is 
usually so passive should, in this particular instance, be aroused to 
so sudden and violent activity. In the wa}'’ of facts not one was 
faithfully stated; and there were several deliberate, unmitigated 
falsehoods, which went essentiall}'' to color the whole account. 

” 1 think this will answer the purpose,” said Steadfast, P and we 
have taken means to see that it shall be w'cll circulated.” 

” This will do them good,” cried Mns. Abbott, almcst breathless 
with delight. ‘‘ 1 hope folks will believe it.” 

” No fear of that. If it were a party thing, now, one half would 
believe it, as a matter of course, and the other half would not be- 
lieve it, as a matter of course, but in a private matter. Lord bless 


HOME AS FOUND. 157 

3'ou, ma’am, people are always ready to believe anylbiw^ that will 
give them something to talk about.” 

Here the teie-d-tete was interrupted by the return of IMrs. Abbott’s 
dillerent messengers, all of whom, unlike the dove sent forth from 
the ark, brought back something in the way of hopes. The Point 
was a general theme, and though the several accounts flatly contra- 
dicted each other, Mrs. Abbott, in the general benevolence of her 
pious heart, found the means to extract corroboration of her wishes 
from each. 

Mr. Dodge was as good as his word, and the account appeared. 
The press, throughout the country, seized with avidity on anything 
that helped to fill its columns. No one appeared disposed to inquire 
into the truth of the account, or after the character of the original 
authority. It was in p^int, and that struck the great majority of the 
editors and their readers, as a sufficient sanction. Few, indeed, -were ■ 
they, who lived so much under a proper self-control as to hesitate; 
and this rank injustice w'as done a private citizen, as much with- 
out moral restraint as without remorse, by those who, to take their 
own accounts of the matter, were the regular and habitual cham-' 
pious of human rights! 

John Effingham pointed out this extraordinary scene of reckless 
wrong to his wondering cousin, with the cool sarcasm with which 
he w'as apt to assail the weaknesses and crimes of the country. His 
firmness, united to that of his cousin, however, put a stop to the 
publication of the resolutions of Aristabulus’s meetine:, and when a 
sufficient time had elapsed to prove that these prurient denouncers 
of their fellow-citizens had taken wit in their anger, he procured 
them, and had them published himself, as the most effectual means 
of exposing the real chaiacter of the senseless mob, that had thus 
disgraced liberty, by assuming its professions and its usages. 

To an observer of men, the end of this affair presented several 
strong points for comment. As soon as the truth became generally 
known in reference to the real ownership, and the public came to as- 
certain that instead of hitherto possessing a right, it had, in fact, been 
merely enjoying a favor, those who had committed themselves by 
their arrogant assumptions of facts, and their indecent outrages, fell 
back on their self-love, and began to find excuses for their conduct 
in that of the other parly. Mr. Effingham was loudly condemned 
for not having done the very thing, he, in truth, had done, viz., tell- 
ing the public it did not own liis property; and when this was 
shown to be an absurdity, the complaint followed that what he had 
done, had been done in precisely such a mode, although it was the 
mode constantly used by ever}’' one else. From these vague and in- 
definite accusations, those most implicated in the wrong began to deny 
all their own original assertions, by insisting that they had known all 
along that Mr. Effingham owned the property, but they did not 
"choose he or any other man should presume to tell them wdiat they 
knew already. In short, the end of this affair exhibited human nat- 
ure in its usual aspects of prevarication, untruth, contradiction, and 
inconsistency, notwithstanding the high profession of liberty made 
by those implicated; and they who had been the most guilty of 
■wrong were loudest in their complaints as if they alone had suffered. 

” This is not exhibiting the country to us, certainly, after so long 


158 


HOME AS FOUND. 


an absence, ic its best appearance,” said Mr. Effingham, ”1 must 
admit, John; but error belongs to all regions, and to all classes of 
institutions,” 

” Ay, Ned, make the best of it, as usual; but it you do not come 
round to my way of thinking before you are a uvelvemonth older, I 
shall renounce prophesying. 1 wish we could get at the bottom of 
Miss Effinsrham’s thoughts on this occasion.” 

‘‘ Miss Effingham has been grieved, disappointed, nay, shocked,” 
said Eve, ” but still she will not despair of the Republic. None of 
our respectable neighbors, in the first place, have shared in this 
transaction, and that is something; though I confess 1 feel some 
surprise that any considerable portion of a community that respects 
itself, should quietly allow an ignorant fragment of its own numbers 
to misrepresent it -so grossly, in an affair that so nearly touches its 
own character for common-sense and justice. 

‘‘ You have jet to learn. Miss Effingham, that nr en can get to be so 
saturated with liberty, that they become insensible to the nicer feel- 
ings. The grossest enormities are constantly comnritted in this good 
Republic of ours, under the pretense of being done by the public, and 
for the public. The public have got to bow to that bugbear, quite 
as submissively as Gesler could have wished the Swiss to bow to his 
own cap, as to the cap of Rodolph’s substitute. Men will have idols, 
and the Americans have merely set up themselves.” 

” And yet. Cousin Jack, you would be wretched were you doomed 
to live under a systemjess free. 1 fear you have the affectation of 
sometimes sajdng that which you do not exactly feel.” 


CHAPTER XVll. 

Come, these are no times to think of dreams— 

We’ll talk of dreams hereafter. 

Shakespeare. 

The day succeeding that in which the conversation just mentioned 
occurred, was one of great expectation and delight in the Wigwam. 
Mrs. Hawker and the Bloomfields were expected, and the morning 
passed away rapidly, under the gay buoyancy of the feelings that 
usually accompany such anticipations in a country-house. The 
travelers were to leave town the previous evening, and, though the 
distance was near two bundled and thirty miles, they were engaged 
to arrive at the usual dinner hour. In speed, the Americans, so long 
as they follow the great routes, are unsurpassed; and even Sir 
George Templemore, coming as he did, from a country of macad- 
amized roads and excellent posting, expressed his surprise, when 
given to understand that a journey of this length, near a hundred 
miles of which were by land moreover, was to be performed in 
twenty-four hours, the stops included. 

” One particularly likes this rapid traveling,” he remarked, 
” when it is to bring us such friends as Mrs. Hawker.” 

” And Mrs. Bloomfield,” added Eve, quickly. ” 1 rest the credit 
of the American females on Mrs. Bloomfield.” 

” More so than on Mrs. Hawker, Miss Effingham?” 

” Not in all that is amiable, respectable, feminine, and lady-like; 


HOME AS FOUND. 


159 


but certainly more so in the way of mind. 1 know, Sir George 
Templemore, as a European, what your opinion is ot our sex in this 
country,” 

‘‘ Good heaven, my dear Miss Effingham! My opinion of your 
sex, in America! It is impossible lor any one to entertain a higher 
opinion ol your countrywomen — as 1 hope to show — as, 1 trust, my 
respect and admiration have always proved; nay, Powis, you, as an 
American, will exonerate me from this want of taste — judgment — 
feeling—” 

Paul laughed, but told the embarrassed and really distressed baro- 
net, that he should leave him in the very excellent hands into which 
he had fallen. 

” You see that bird, that is sailing so prettily above the roofs of 
the village,” said Eve, pointing with her parasol in the direction she 
meant; for the three were walking together on the little lawn, in 
waiting for the appearance of the expected guests; ‘‘ and 1 daresay 
you are ornithologist enough to tell its vulgar name.” 

‘‘You are in the humor to be severe this morning — the bird is but 
a common swallow.” 

‘‘ One of which will not make a summer, as every one knows. 
Our cosmopolitism is already forgotten, and with it, 1 tear, our frank- 
ness.” 

‘‘ Since Powis has hoisted his national colors, 1 do not feel as free 
on such subjects as formerly,” returned Sir George, smiling. 
‘‘When 1 thought I had a secret ally in him, I was not afraid to 
concede a little in such things, but his avowal of his country^has 
put me on my guard. In no case, however, shall 1 admit my insen- 
sibility to the qualities of jmur countrywomen. Powis, as a na- 
tive, may lake that liberty; but, as for myself, 1 shall insist they are 
at least the equals of any* females that 1 know'.” 

‘‘ In naivete, prettiness, delicacy of appearance, simplicity, and 
sincerity — ” 

‘‘ In sincerity, think you, dear Miss Effingham?” 

‘‘ In sincerity, above all things, dear Sir George Templemore. 
Sincerity — nay, frankness is the last quality 1 should think of deny- 
ing them.” 

‘‘ But to return to Mrs. Bloomfield— she is clever, exceedingly 
clever, 1 allow; in what is her cleverness to be distinguished from 
that of one of her sex on the other side of the ocean?” 

‘‘ In nothing, perhaps, did there exist no differences in national 
characteristics. Naples and New Y"ork are in the same latitude, and 
yet, 1 think you will agree with me that there is little resemblance 
m their populations.” 

‘‘ 1 confess 1 do not unerstand the allusion— are you quicker wit- 
ted, Powis?” 

‘‘Iwill not say that,” answered Paul; ‘‘but I think 1 do com- 
prehend Miss Effingham’s meaning. Y’ou have traveled enough to 
know that, as a rule, there is more aptitude m a southern than in a 
northern people. They receive impressions more readily, and arc 
quicker in all their perceptions.” 

‘‘ 1 believe this to be true; but then, you will allow that they are 
less constant, and have less perseverance?” 

‘‘ In that we are agreed, Sir George Templemore,” resumed Eve, 


IGO 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


“ though we might difler as to the cause. The inconstancy of which 
you speak, is niore connected with moral than physical causes, per- 
haps, and we, of this region, might claim an exemption from some 
of them. But Mrs. Bloomfield is to be distinguished from her 
European rivals by a frame so singularly feminine as to appear frag- 
ile; a delicacy of exterior that were it not for that illumined- face of 
hers, might indicate a general feebleness; a sensitiveness and quick- 
ness of intellect that amount almost to inspiration; and yet all is bal- 
anced by a pi'actical common sense that renders her as safe a coun- 
selor as she is a warm friend. This latter quality causes you 
sometimes to doubt her genius, it is so very homely and available. 
Now it is in this that 1 think the American woman, when she does 
rise above mediocrity, is particularly to be distinguished from the 
European. The latter, as a genius, is almost always in the clomls, 
whereas Mrs. Bloomfield, in her highest flights, is either all heart 
or all good sense. The nation is practical and the practical quali- 
ties get to be imparted even to its highest order of talents.” 

‘‘ The English women are thought to be less excitable, and not so 
much under the influence of sentimentalism, as some of their conti- 
nental neighbors. ’ ’ 

” And very justly— but — ” 

” But what. Miss Eflangham — there is in all this a slight return to 
the cosmopolitan, that reminds me of our days of peril and advent- 
ure., Do not conceal a thought if you wish to preserve that char- 
acter.” 

‘‘ Well, to be sincere, 1 shall say that your women live under a sys- 
teiTi loo sophisticated and factitious to give fair play to common sense, 
at all times. What, for instance, can be the habitual notions of one 
who, professing the doctrines of Christianity, is accustomed to find 
money placed so very much in the ascendant, as to see it daily exacted 
in payment for the very first of the sacred offices of the church? It 
would be as rational to contend that a mirror which had been cracked 
into radii Dy a bullet, like those we have so often seen in Paris, would 
reflect faithfully, as to suppose a mind familiarized to such abuses 
would be sensitive on practical and common sense things.” 

‘‘ But, my dear Miss Effingham, that is all a habit.” 

‘‘ 1 know it is all habit, Sir George Templemore, and a very bad 
habit it is. Even your devoutest clergymen get so accustomed to 
it, as not to see the capital mistake they make. 1 do not saj-- it is 
absolutely sinful, where there is no compulsion; but 1 hope you 
agree with me, Mr. Powis, when 1 say 1 think a clergyman ought 
to be so sensitive on such a subject, as to refuse even the little offer- 
ings for baptisms that it is the practice of the wealthy of this country 
to make.” 

” 1 agree with you entirely, for it w^ould denote a more just per- 
ception of the nature of the office they are performing; and they 
who wish to give can always make occasions.” 

” A hint might be taken from Franklin, who is said to have asked 
his father to ask a blessing on the pork-barrel, by way of condensa- 
tion,” put in John EffingUam, who joined them as he spoke, and 
who had heard a part of the conversation. “ In this instance, an 
average might be struck in the marriage fee, that should embrace 
all future baptisms. But here comes neighbor Ilowcl to favor us 


HOME AS FOUKH. 


161 


with his opinion. Do you like the usages of the English Church, as 
respects baptism, Howel?” 

“ Excellent, the best in the world, John EfBngham.” 

“ Mr. Howel is so true an Englishman,” said Eve, shaking hands 
cordially with tbeir well-meaning neighbor, “ that he would give a 
certificate in favor of poh^gamy, if it bad a British origin.” 

” And is not this a more natural sentiment for an American than 
that wbicb distrnsts so much, merely because it comes from that 
little island?” asked Sir George, reproachfully. 

” That is a question 1 shall leave Mr. Howel himself to answer.” 

” Why, Sir George,” observed the gentleman alluded to, “ 1 do 
not attribute my respect for your country, in the least, to origin. 1 
endeavor to keep myself free from all sorts of prejudices. My ad- 
miration of England arises from conviction, and 1 watch all her 
movements with the utmost jealousy, in order to see if lean not find 
her tripping, though 1 feel bound to say 1 have never yet detected 
her in a single error. M'hat a very different picture, France — 1 hope 
your governess is not within hearing, Miss Eve; it is not her fault 
she was born a Frenchwoman, and we would not wish to hurt her 
feelings— but what a difteient picture France presents! 1 have 
w^atched ner narrowly, too, these forty years, 1 may say, and I have 
never yet found her right; and this, you must allow, is a great deal 
to be said by one who is thoroughly impartial.” 

” This is a terrible picture, indeed, Howel, to come from an un- 
prejudiced man,” said John Effingham; ” and 1 make no doubt Sir 
George Templemore will have a better opinion of himself forever 
after —he for a valiant lion, and you for a true prince. But yonder 
is the ‘ exclusive extra,’ which contains our party.” 

The elevated bit of lawn on which they were walking commanded 
a view of the road that led into the village, and the traveling vehicle 
engaged by Mrs. Hawker and her friends was now seen moving 
along at a rapid pace. Eve expressed her satisfaction, and then all 
resumed their walk, as some minutes must still elapse previously to 
their arrival. 

‘‘Exclusive extra!” repeated Sir George; ‘‘that is a peculiar 
phrase, and one that denotes anything but democracy.” 

‘‘ In any other part of the world a thing would be sufficiently 
marked by being ‘ extra,’ but here it requires the addition of ‘ ex- 
clusive,’ in order to give it the * tower stamp,’ ” said John Effing- 
ham with a curl of his handsome lip. ‘‘ Anything may be as 
exclusive as it please, provided it bear the public impress. A stage- 
coach being intended for everybody, why, the more exclusive it is, 
the better. The next thing we shall hear of will be e xclusive steam- 
boats, exclusive railroads, and both for the uses of the exclusive 
people.” 

Sir George now seriously asked an explanation of the meaning of 
the terms, when Mr. Howel informed him that an ‘‘ extra,” m 
America, meant a supernumerary coach, to carry any excess of the 
ordinary number of passengers; whereas an ‘‘exclusive extra” 
meant a coach expressly engaged by a particular individual. 

‘‘ The latter, then, is American posting,” observed Sir George. 

‘‘ Tou have got the best idea of it that can be given,” said Paul. 
“^It is virtually posting with a coarbman. instead of postilions, few 


1G2 


HOME AS FOUKH. 


persons in tliis country, where so much of the greater distances is 
done by steam, using their own traveling carriages. Ihe American 
‘ exclusive extra ’ is not only posting, but, in any of the older parts 
of the country, is posting ot a very good quality.” 

“ 1 dare say. now, this is all wrong, if we only knew it,” said the 
simple-minded Mr. Howel. ” There is nothing exclusive in Eng- 
land, ha, Sir George?” 

Everybody laughed except the person who put this question, but 
the rattling of wheels and the tramping of horses on the village 
bridge, announced the near approach of the travelers. By the time 
the party had reached the great door in front of the house, the car- 
riage was alreadv in the grounds, and at the next moment Eve was 
in the arms ot Mrs, Bloomfield. It was apparent, at a glance, that 
more than the expected number ot guests were in the vehicle; and as 
its contents were slowly discharged, the spectators stood around it 
with curiositj”, to observe who would appear. 

The first person that descended, after the exit of Mrs. Bloomfield, 
was Captain Truck, who, however, instead of salutin'; his friends, 
turned assiduously to the door he had just passed through, to assist 
Mrs. Hawker to alight. Not until this office had been done, did he 
even look for Eve; for, so profound was the worthy captain’s ad- 
miration and respect for this venerable lady, that she actually 
had got to supplant our heroine, in some measure, in his heart. Mr. 
Bloomfield appeared next, and an exclamation of surprise and pleas- 
ure proceeded from both Paul and the baronet, as they caught a 
glimpse ot the face of the last of the travelers that cot out. 

” Ducie!” cried Sir George. “This is even better than we ex- 
pected.” 

“ Ducie!” added Paul; “ you are several days before the expected 
time, and in excellent company.” 

The explanation, however, was very simple. Captain Ducie had 
found the facilities for rapid motion much greater than he had ex- 
pected, and he reached Fort Plain, in the eastward cars, as the re- 
mainder ot the party arrived in the westward. Captain Truck, who 
had met Mrs. Hawker’s party in the river boat, had been intrusted 
with the duty ot making arrangements, and recognizing Captain 
Ducie, to their mutual surprise, while engaged in this employment, 
and ascertaining his destination, the latter was very cordially received 
]ulo the “ exclusive extra.” 

Mr. Eflingham welcomed all his guests with the hospitality and 
kindness for which he was distinguished. We are no great admirers 
ot the pretension to peculiar national virtues, having ascertained, to 
our own satisfaction, by tolerably extensive observation, that the 
moral difterence between men is of no great amount; but we are al- 
most tempted to say, on this occasion, that Mr. Effingham received 
his guests with American hospitality; for if there be one quality that 
this people can claim to possess in a higher degree than that of most 
other Christian nations, it is that of a simple, sincere, confiding hos- 
pitality. For jMrs. Hawker, in common with all who knew her, the 
owner ot the Wigwam entertained a profound respect; and though 
his less active mind did not take as much pleasure as that of his 
daughter in the almost intuitive intelligence of Mrs, Bloomfield, he 
also felt for this lady a very fiiendly regard. It gave him pleasure 


HOME AS FOUND. 


163 


to see Eve surrounded by persons of her own sex, of so high a tone 
ot thought and breeding; a tone of thought and breeding, moreover, 
that was as far removed as possible from anything strained or 
artificial; and his welcomes were cordial in proportion. Mr. Bloom- 
field was a quiet, sensible, eentleman-like man, whom his wife 
fervently loved, without making any parade of her attachment, and 
he also was one who had the good sense to make himself agreeable 
wherever he went. Captain Ducie, who, Englishman-like, had re- 
quired some urging to be induced to present himself before the 
precise hour named in his own letter, and who had seriously con- 
templated passing several daj^s in a tavern, previous to showing him- 
self at the Wigwam, was agreeably disappointed at a reception, that 
would have been just as frank and warm, had he come without any 
notice at all; for the Effinghams knew that the uses which sophisti- 
cation and a crowded population perhaps render necessary in older 
countries, were not needed in their own; and then the circumstance 
that their quondam pursuer was so near, a kinsman of Paul Powis, 
did not fail to act essentially in his favor. 

“ We can offer but little in these retired mountains, to interest a 
traveler and a man of the w'orld. Captain Pucie,” said Mr. Effing- 
ham, when he went to pay his compliments, more particularly, after 
the whole party was in the house; “ but there is a common interest 
in our past adventures to talk about, after all other topics fail. 
When we met on the ocean, and you deprived us so unexpectedly of 
our fiiend Powis, we did not know that you had the better claim of 
affinity to his company.” 

Captain Ducie colored slightly, but he made his answer with a 
proper degree of courtesy and gratitude. 

“It is very true,” he added, “Powis and myself are relatives, 
and 1 shall place all my claims to your hospitality to his account; 
for 1 feel that 1 have been the unwilling cause of too much suffering 
to your party to bring with me any very pleasant recollections, not- 
withstanding your kindness in including me as a friend, in the ad- 
ventures of which you speak.” 

. “ Dangers that are happily past seldom bring very unpleasant 
recollections, more especially when they were connected with scenes 
of excitement. 1 understand, sir, that the unhappy young man wdio 
was the principal cause of all that passed, anticipated the sentence 
ot the law by destroying himself.” 

“ He was his'own executioner, and the victim of a silly weakness 
that, 1 should think, your state of society was yet too young and 
simple to encourage. The idle vanity of making an appearance — a 
vanity, by the way, that seldom besets gentlemen, or the class to 
which it may be thought more properly to belong — ruins hundreds 
of young men in England, and this poor creature wasof the number. 
1 never was more rejoiced than when he quitted my ship, for the 
sight ot so much weakness sickened one of human nature. Miser- 
able as his fate proved to be, and pitiable as his condition really 
was, while in my charge, his case has the alleviating circumstance 
with me, of having made me acquainted with those 'whom it might 
not otherwise have been my good fortune to meet!” 

This civil speech was properly acknowledged, and Mr. Effingham 


164 


HOME AS FOUND, 


addressed himself to Captain Truck, to whom, in the hurry of the 
moment, he had not yet said half that his feelings dictated. 

“ 1 am rejoiced to see you under my roof, my worthy friend,” 
taking thO rough hand of the old seaman between his own whiter 
and more delicate fingers, and shaking it with cordiality; ” for this 
is being under my roof, while those town residences have less the air 
of domestication and familiarity. You will spend mary of your 
holidays here, 1 trust; and when we get a few years older we will 
begin to prattle about the marvels we have seen in company.” 

The eye of Captain Truck glistened, and as he returned the shake 
by another of twice the energy, and the gentle pressure of Mr. 
Effingham by a squeeze like that of a vise, he said, in his honest 
off-hand manner — 

” The happiest hour 1 ever knew, was that in which I discharged 
the pilot, the first time out as a ship-master; the next great event of 
my life, in the way of happiness, was the moment 1 found myself 
on the deck of the ‘Mont^uk,’ after we had given those greasy 
Arabs a hint that their room was better than their company; and 1 
really think this very instant must be set down as the third. 1 
never knew, my dear sir, how much 1 truly loved you and your 
daughter until both were out of sight.” 

” That is so kind and gallant a speech that it ought not to be lost 
on the person most concerned. Eve, my love, our worthy friend 
has just made a declaration which will be a novelty to you, who 
have not been much in the way of listening to speeches of this nat- 
ure. ” 

Mr. Effingham then acquainted his daughter with what Captain 
Truck had just said. 

‘‘ J'his is certainly the first declaration of the sort 1 ever heard, 
and with the simplicity of an unpracticed young woman, there 
avow that the attachment is reciprocal,” said the smiling Eve. ” If 
there is an indiscretion in this hasty acknowledgment it must be 
ascribed to surprise, and to the suddenness with which I have 
learned my power, for yoMi parvenues are not always perfectly regu- 
lated.” 

” 1 hope Ma’mselle V. A. V. is well,” returned the captain, cor- 
dially shaking the hand the young lady had given him, ‘‘ and that 
she enjoys herself to her liking in this outlandish country?” 

” Mademoiselle Viefville will return you her thanks in person, at 
dinner; and 1 believe she does not yet regret la belle Francs unrea- 
sonably; as 1 regret it myself, in man}'’ particulars, it would be un- 
just not to permit a native ol the country some liberty in that way.” 

” 1 perceive a strange face in the room — one of the family, my 
dear young lady?” 

” Not a relative, but a very old friend. Shall 1 have the pleasure 
of introducing you, captain?” 

” 1 hardly dared to ask it, for 1 know you must have been over- 
worked in this way lately, but 1 confess 1 should like an introduc- 
tion; 1 have neither introduced nor been introduced since 1 left New 
York, wdth the exception of the case of Captain Ducie, whom I 
made properly acquainted with Mrs. Hawker and her party, as you 
may suppose. They know each other regularly now, and you are 
saved the trouble of going through the ceremony yourself,” 


HOME AS FOUND, 165 

“ And how is it with you and the Bloomfields? Did Mrs. Hawker 
name you to them properly?” 

” That is the most extraordinary thing of the sort 1 ever knew I 
Not a word was said in the way of introduction, and yet 1 slid into 
an acquaintance with Mrs. Bloomfield so easily that 1 could not tell 
^mu how it was done, it my life depended on it. But this very old 
friend of yours, my dear young lady — ” 

” Captain Truck, Mr. How^el; Mr. Howel, Captain Truck,” said 
Eve, imitating the most approved manner of the introductory spirit 
of the day with admirable self-possession and gravity. “ 1 arn fort- 
unate in having it in my power to make two persons whom ] so 
much esteem acquainted.” 

‘‘ Captain Truck is the gentleman who commands the ‘ Mon- 
tauk ’?” said Mr. Howel, glancing at Eve, as much as to say, ” Am 
1 right?” 

‘‘ The very same; and the brave seaman to whom we are all in- 
debted for the happiness of standing here at this moment.” 

” You are to be envied, Captain Truck; of all the men in 
your calling you are exactly the one 1 should most wish to supplant, 
I understand you actually go to England twice every year?” 

‘‘ Three times, sir, when the winds permit. 1 have even seen the 
old island four times between January and January.” 

” What a pleasure! It must be the very acme of navigation to 
sail between America and England!” 

” It is not unpleasant, sir, from April to November, but the long 
nights, thick weather, and heavy winds knock off a good deal of the 
satisfaction tor the rest of the year.” 

” But 1 speak of the country; of old England itself; not of the 
passages.” 

‘‘Well, England has what 1 call a pretty fair coast. It is high, 
and great attention is paid to the lights; but of what account is 
either coast or lights, if the weather is so thick you can not see the 
end of your flying- jibboom!” 

‘‘ Mr. Howel alludes more particularly to the country, inland,” 
said Eve; ” to the towns, the civilization, and the other proofs 
cultivation and reflnement. To the government especially.” 

‘‘ In my judgment, sir, the government is much too particular 
about tobacco, and some other trifling things I could name. Then 
it restricts pennants to king’s ships, whereas, to my notion, my dear 
young lady, a New York packet is as worthy of wearing a pennant 
as any vessel that floats. 1 mean, of course, ships of the regular 
European lines, and not the Southern traders.” 

‘‘ But these are merely spots on the sun, my good sir,” returned 
Mr. Howel. ‘‘ Putting a few such trifles out of the question, I 
think you will allow that England is the most delightful country in 
the world?” 

‘‘ To be frank with you, Mr. Howel, there is a good deal of hang- 
dog weather along in October, November, and December. 1 have 
known March anything but agreeable, and then April is just like a 
young girl with one of your melancholy novels, now smiling and 
now blubbering.” 

‘‘ But the morals of the country, my dear sir; the moral features 
of England must be a source of never-dying delight to a true philan- 


166 


HOME AS FOUKH 


thropist,” resumed Mr. Howel, as Eve, who perceived that the dis- 
course was likely to be long, went to join the ladies. “ An English- 
man has most reason to be proud of the moral excellences of his 
country!” 

” Why, to be frank with you, Mr. Howel, there are some of the 
moral features of London that are anything but very beautiful. If 
you could pass twenty-four hours in the neighborhood of St. Catha- 
rine’s, you would see sights that would throw Templeton into fits. 
The English are a handsome people, 1 allow; but their morality is 
none of the best-featured.” 

” Let us be seated, sir; 1 am afraid we are not exactly agreed on 
our terms, and, in order that we may continue this subject, 1 beg 
you will let me lake a seat next you at table.” 

To this Captain Truck very cheerfully assented, and then the two 
took chairs, continuing the discourse very much in the blind and 
ambiguous manner in which it had been commenced. The one 
party insisting on seeing everything through the medium of an im- 
agination that had got" to be diseased on such subjects, or with a 
species of monomania; while the other seemed obstinately deter- 
mined to consider the entire country as things had been presented to 
his limited and peculiar experience in the vicinity of the docks. 

“We have had a very unexpected and a very agreeable attendant 
in Captain Truck,” said Mrs. Hawker, when Eve had placed herself 
by her side, and respectfully taken one of her hands. ” 1 really 
think if 1 were to sufier shipwreck, or to run the hazard of captiv- 
ity, 1 should choose to have both to occur in his good company.” 

‘‘ Mrs. Hawker makes so many conquests,” observed Mrs. Bloom- 
field, ” that we are to think nothing of her success with this mer- 
man; but what will you say. Miss Effingham, when j’^ou learn that 
1 am also in favor in the same high quarter? 1 shall think the bet- 
ter of masters, and boatswains, and Trinculos and Stephanos, as 
long as 1 live, for this specimen of their craft.” 

“ Not Trinculos and Stephanos, dear Mrs. Bloomfield; for, d 
Vexception prh de Saturday nights, and sweethearts and wives, a 
^ore exemplary person in the way of libations does not exist than 
our excellent Captain Truck. He is much too religious and moral 
for so vulgar an excess as drinking.” 

” Religious!” exclaimed Mrs. Bloomfield, in surprise. “ This is 
a merit to which 1 did not know he possessed the smallest claims. 
One might imagine a little superstition, and some short-lived repent- 
ances in gales of wind; but scarcely anything as much like a trade 
wind as religion!” 

” Then you do not know him; for a more sincerely devout man, 
though 1 acknowledge it is afler a fashion that is peculiar to the 
ocean, is not often met with. At any rate, you found him attentive 
to our sex?” 

” Ihe pink of politeness; and, not to embellish, there is a manly 
deference about him that is singularly agreeable to our frail vanity. 
This comes of his packet-training, 1 suppose, and we may thank you 
for some portion of his merit. His tongue never tires in your 
praises, and did 1 not feel persuaded that your mind is made up 
never to be the wife of any republican American, 1 should fear this 
visit exceedingly. Notwithstanding the remark 1 made concerning 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


167 

my being in favor, the affair lies between Mrs. Hawker and your- 
sell. 1 know it is not your habit to trifle even on that very popular 
subject with young ladies, matrimony; but this case forms so com- 
plete an exception to the vulgar passion, that 1 trust you will over- 
look the indiscretion. Our tcolden captain, for copper he is not, pro- 
tests that Mrs. Hawker is the most delighttul old lady he ever knew, 
and that Miss Eve Effingham is the most delightful young lady he 
ever knew. Here, then, each may see the ground she occupies, and 
play her cards accordingly. 1 hope to be forgiven for touching on 
a subject so delicate.” 

In the first place,” said Eve, smiling, ” ] should wish to hear 
Mrs. Hawker’s reply.” 

‘‘1 have no more to say, than to express my perfect gratitude,” 
answered that lady, ” to announce a determination not to change 
m}" condition, on account of extreme youth, and a disposition to 
abaudou the field to my younger, it not fairer, rival.” 

” Well, then,” resumed Eve, anxious to change the subject, for 
she saw that Paul was approaching their group, ” 1 believe it will 
be wisest in me to suspend a decision, circumstances leaving so 
much at my disposal. Time must show what that decision will be.” 

“Nay,” said Mrs. Bloomfield, who saw no feeling involved in 
the trifling, ” this is unjustifiable coquetry, and 1 feel bound to ascer- 
tain how the land lies. You will remember 1 am the captain’s con- 
fidante, and you know the fearful responsibility of a friend in an 
affair of this sort; that of a friend in the duello being insignificant 
in comparison. That 1 may have a testimony at need, Mr. Powis 
shall be made acquainted with the leading facts. Captain Truck is 
a devout admirer of this young lady, sir, and 1 am endeavoring to 
discover whether he ought to hang himself on her father’s lawn this 
evening, as soon as the moon rises, or live another week. In order 
to do this, 1 shall pursue the categorical and inquisitorial method, 
and so defend yourself, Miss Effingham. Do you object to the coun- 
try of your admirer?” 

Eve, though inwardly vexed at the turn this pleasantry had taken, 
maintained a perfectly composed manner; for she knew that Mrs. 
Bloomfield had too much feminine propriety to say anything im- 
proper, or anything that might seriously embarrass her. 

” It would, indeed, be extraordinary, should I object to a country 
which is not only my own, but which has so long been that of my 
ancestors,” she answered, steadily. ” On this score my knight has 
nothing to fear.” 

' 1 rejoice to hear this,” returned Mrs. Bloomfield, glancing her 

eyes, unconsciously to herself, however, toward Sir George Temple- 
more. ” and, Mr. Powis, you, who I believe are a European, will 
learn humility in the avowal. Do you object to your swain that he 
is a seaman?” 

Eve blushed, notwithstanding a strong effort to appear composed, 
and, for the first time since their’acquaintance, she felt provoked with 
Mrs, Bloomfield. She hesitated before she answered in the negative, 
and this too in a way to give more meaning to her reply, although 
nothing could be further from her intentions. 

” The happy man may then be an American and a seaman! Here 
is great encouragement! Do- you object to sixty?” 


168 


HOME AS FOttHD. 


“ In any other man 1 should certainly consider it a blemish, as 
my own dear father is but fifty.” 

Mrs. Bloomfield was struck with the tremor in the voice, and 
with the air of embarrassment, in one who usually was so easy and 
collected; and with feminine sensitiveness she adroitly abandoned 
the subject, though she often recurred to this stifled emotion in the 
course of the day, and from that moment she became a silent observer 
oi Eve’s deportment with all her lather’s guests. 

“ This is hope enough for one day,” she said, rising; ” the profes- 
sion and the flag must <^ounterbalance the years as best they may, and 
the Truck lives another revolution of the sun! Mrs. Hawker, we 
shall be late at dinner, 1 see by the clock, unless we retire soon.” 

Both the ladies now went to their rooms; Eve, who was already 
dressed for dinner, remaining in the drawing-room. Paul still stood 
before her, and, like herself, be seemed embarrassed. 

‘‘ There are men who would be delighted to hear even the little 
that has fallen from your lips in this trifling,” he said, as soon as 
Mrs. Bloomfield was out ot hearing. ‘‘To be an American and a 
seaman, then, are not serious detects in jmur eyes?” 

” Am 1 to he made responsble for Mrs. Bloomfield’s caprices and 
pleasantries?” 

” By no means; but 1 do think you hold yourself responsible for 
Miss Effingham’s truth and sincerity. 1 can conceive of your silence, 
when questioned too far, but scarcely of any direct declaration, that 
shall not possess both these high qualities,” 

Eve looked up gratefully, for she saw that profound respect for 
her character dictated the remark; but rising, she observed — 

‘‘ This is making a little badinage about our honest, lion-hearted 
old captain, a very serious affair. And now, to show you that I am 
conscious of, and thankful for, your own compliuients, 1 shall 
place you on the footing of a friend to both the parties, and re- 
quest you will take Captain Truck into your especial care, while 
he remains here. My father and cousin are both sincerely his 
friends, but their habits are not so much those of their guests, as 
yours will probably be; and to you, then, 1 commit him, with a re- 
quest that he nuiy miss his ship and the ocean as little as possible.” 

‘‘ 1 would 1 knew how to take this charge. Miss Effingham! To 
be a seaman is not always a recommendation with the polished, in- 
telligent, and refined.” 

‘‘ But when one is polished, intelligent, and refined, to be a sea- 
man is to add one other particular and useful branch of knowledge 
to those which are more familiar. 1 feel certain Captain Truck will 
be in good hands, and now 1 will go and do my devoirs to my own 
especial charges, the ladies.” 

Eve bowed as she passed the young man, and she left the room 
with as much haste as at all became her. Paul stood motionless 
quite a minute after she had variished, nor did he awaken from his 
reverie, until aroused by an appeal from Captain Truck, to sustain 
him, in some of his matter-of-lact opinions concerning England, 
against the visionary and bookish notions ot Mr. llowel. 

” "Who is this Mr. Powis?” asked Mrs. Bloomfield of Eve, when 
the latter appeared in her dressing-rouin, with an unusual impatience 
of manner. 


HOME AS EOUHDo 


169 


“You know, my clear Mrs. Bloomfield, that he was our fellow- 
passenger in the ‘ Montauk,’ and that he was of infinite service to U8 
in escaping from the Arabs.” 

“ All this 1 know, certainly, but he is a European, is he not?” 

Eve scarcely ever felt more embarrassed than in answering this 
simple question. 

“ I believe not; at least, 1 think not; we thought so when we met 
him in Europe, and even until quite lately; but he has avowed him- 
self a countryman of our own, since his arrival at Templetou.” 

“ Has he been here long?” 

‘‘We found him in the village on reaching home. He was from 
Canada, and has been in waiting for his cousin. Captain Ducie, who 
came with you.” 

‘‘His cousin! He has English cousins, then! Mr. Ducie kept 
this to himself, with true English reserve. Captain Truck whis- 
pered something of the latter’s having taken out one of his pas- 
sengers, the Mr. Powis, the heroot the rocks, but 1 did not know of 
his having found his way back to our — to his country. Is he as 
agreeable as Sir George Templemore?” 

“ Nay, Mrs. Bloomfield, 1 must leave you to judge of that for 
yourself. 1 think them both agreeable men; but there is so much 
caprice in a woman’s tastes, that 1 decline thinking for others.” 

“ He is a seaman, 1 believe,” observed Mrs. Bloomfield, with an 
abstracted manner; “he must have been, to have maneuvered and 
managed as 1 have been told he did.' Powis — Powis — that is not one 
of our names, either- -I should think he must be from the south.” 

Here Eve’s habitual truth and dignity of mind did her good serv- 
ice, and prevented any fimher betrayal of embarrassment. 

“ We do not know his family,” she steadily answered. “ That he 
is a gentleman, we see; but of his origin and connections he never 
speaks.” 

“ His profession would have given him the notions of a gentleman, 
for he was in the navy, 1 have heard, although 1 had thought it the 
British navy. 1 do not know of any Powdses in Philadelphia, or 
Baltimore, or Richmond, or Charleston; he must surely be from the 
interior.” 

Eve could scarcely condemn her friend for a curiosity that had not 
a little tormented herself, though she would gladly have changed, 
the discourse. 

“ Mr. Powis would be much gratified did he know what a subject 
of interest he wassuddenly become with Mrs. Bloomfield,” she said, 
smiling. 

“ 1 confess it all; to be very sincere, 1 think him the most dis- 
tinguished young man in air, appearance, and expression of counte- 
nance, 1 ever saw. When this is coupled with wdiat 1 have heard 
of his gallantry and coolness, my dear, 1 should not be woman to 
feel no interest in him. 1 would give the world to know of what 
State he is a native— it native, in truth, he be.” 

“ For that we have his own word. He was born in this country, 
and was educated in our own marine. ” 

“ And yet from the little that fell from him, in our first short 
conversation, he struck me as being educated above his profession ” 
“ Mr. powis has seep much as a traveler; wheu we met him in 


HOME AS FOUNDo 


1*70 

Europe, it was in a circle particularly' qualified to improve both his 
mind and his manners.” 

“ Europe! Your acquaintance did not, then, commence, like that 
with Sir George Templemore, in the packet?” 

‘‘ Our acquaintance with neither commenced in the packet. My 
father had often seen both these gentlemen, during our residence in 
different parts of Europe.” 

‘‘ And your father’s daughter?” 

” My father’s daughter, too,” said Eve, laughing. “ 'With Mr. 
Powis, in particular, we were acquainted under circumsiances that 
left a vivid recollection of his manliness and professional skill. He 
was of almost as 'much service to us on one of the Swiss lakes as 
he has subsequently been on the ocean.” 

All this was news to Mrs. Bloomfield, and she looked as it she 
thought the intelligence interesting. At this moment the dinner-bell 
rang, and all the ladies descended to the drawing-room. The gen- 
tlemen were already assembled, and as Mr. Eftlngham led Mrs. 
Hawker to the table, Mrs. Bloomfield gayly took Eve by the arm, 
protesting that she felt herself privileged, the first day, to take a 
seat near the young mistress of the Wigwam. 

‘‘.Mr. Powis and Sir George Templemore will not quarrel about 
the honor,” she said, in a low voice, as they proceeded toward the 
table. 

“ Indeed, you are in error, Mrs. Bloomfield; Sir George Temple- 
more is much better pleased with being a'6 liberty to sit next my 
Cousin Grace. ” 

“ Can this be so?” returned the other, looking intently at her 
young friend. 

‘‘ Indeed it is so, and 1 am very glad to be able to affirm ik How 
far Miss Yan Cortlandt is pleased that it is so, time must shovv; but 
the baronet betrays every day, and all day, how much he is pleased 
with her.” 

‘‘ He is, then, a man of less taste, and judgment, and intelligence, 
than 1 had thought him.” 

” Nay, dearest Mrs. Bloomfield, this is not necessarily true; or, if 
true, need it be so openly said?” 

” 8e non e vero, e hen trovato.’' 


CHAPTER XYllL 

Thine for a space are they— 

Yet shalt thou yield thy treasures up at last; 

Thy gates shall yet give way, 

Thy bolts shall fall, inexorable past. 

Bryant. 

Captain Ducie had retired for the nighi , and was sitting read- 
ing, when a low tap at the door roused him from a brown-study. 
He gave the necessarj^ permission, and the door opened. 

‘‘ 1 hope, Ducie, you have not forgotten the secretaire 1 left 
among your effects,” said Paul, entering the room, “ and concern- 
ing which 1 wrote to you when you were still at Quebec.” 

Captain Ducie pointed to the case which was standing among his 
other luggage, on the fioor of the ropm.. 


HOME AS FOUND. 


171 

“ Thank you for this care,” said Paul, taking the secretaire under 
’his arm, and retiring toward the door; ” it contains papers of much 
importance to myself, and some that 1 have reason to think are of 
importance to others.” 

“Stop, Powis— a word before you quit me. Is Templemore 
tro'p 

“ Isot at all; 1 have a sincere regard for Templemore, and should 
be sorr}^ to see him leave us.” 

“And yeti think it singular a man of his habits should be 
rusticating among these hills, when 1 know that he is expected to 
look at the Canadas, with a view to report their actual condition at 
home.” 

“ Is Sir George really intrusted with a commission of that sort?” 
inquired Paul, with interest. 

“Not with any positive commission, perhaps, for none was nec- 
essary. Templemore is a rich fellow, and has no need of appoint- 
ments; but it is hoped and understood that he will look at the prov- 
inces, and report their condition to the government. 1 dare say he 
will not be impeached for his negligence, though it may occasion 
surprise.” 

“ Good-night, Ducie; Templemore prefers a wigwam to your 
walled Quebec, and natives to colonists; that is all.” 

In a minute Paul was at the door of John Effingham’s room, 
where he again tapped, and was again told to enter, 

“ Ducie has not forgotten my request, and this is the secretaire that 
contains poor Mr. Monday’s papers,” he remarked, as he laid his 
load on a toilet table, speaking in a way to show that his visit was 
expected. “We have, indeed, neglected this duty too long, and it 
is to be hoped no injustice, or wrong to any, will be the conse- 
quence.” 

“ Is that the package?” demanded John Effingham, extending a 
hand to receive a bundle of papers that Paul had taken from the 
secretaire. “We will break .the seals this moment, and ascertain 
what ought to be done before we sleep.” 

“ These are. papers of my own, and very precious are they,” re- 
turned the young man, regarding them a moment with interest, be- 
fore he laid them on the toilet. “ Here are the papers of Mr. Mon- 
da.y.” . 

John Effingham received the package from his young friend, 
placed the lights conveniently on the table, put on his spectacles, 
and invited Paul to be seated. Tiie gentlemen were placed opposite 
each other, the duty of breaking the seals, and first casting an eye at 
the contents of the different documents, devolving, as a matter of 
course, on the senior of the two, who, in truth, had alone been in- 
trusted with it. 

“ Here is something signed by poor Monday himself, in the way 
of a general certificate,” observed John Effingham, who first read 
the paper, and then handed it to Paul. It was, in form, an unsealed 
letter; and it was addressed “ to all whom it may concern.” The 
certificate itself was m the following words: 

■ “1, John Monday, do declare and certify that all the accompany- 
ing letters and documents are genuine and authentic. Jane Dowse, 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


172 

to whom and from whom are so many letters, was my late mother,^ 
she having intermarried with Peter Dowse, the man so often named,* 
and who led her into acts for which 1 know she has since been deep- 
ly repentant. In committing these papers to me, my. poor mother 
left me tne sole judge of the course 1 was to lake, and 1 have put 
them in this form, in order that they may yet do good, should 1 be 
called suddenly away. All depends* on discovering who the person 
called Bright actually is, for he was never known to my mother by 
any other name. She knows him to have been an Englishrnan, 
however, and thinks he was, or has been, an upper servant in a 
gentleman’s family. John Monday.” 

This paper was dated several years back, a sign that the disposition 
to do right had existed some time in Mr. Monday; and all the letters 
and other papers had been carel ully preserved. The latter also ap- 
peared to be regularly numbered, a precaution that much aided the 
invest igations of the two gentlemen. The original letters spoke for 
themselves, and the copies had been made in a clear, strong, mercan- 
tile hand, and with the method of one accustomed to business. In 
short, so far as the contents of the different papers would allow, 
nothing was wanting to render the whole distinct and intelligible. 

John Effingham read the paper No. 1, with deliberation, though 
not aloud; and when he had done, he handed it to his young friend, 
coollv remarking: 

‘‘ That is the production of a deliberate villain.” 

Paul glanced his eye over the document, w^hich was an original 
letter signed ‘‘David Bright,” and addressed to ‘‘Mrs. Jane 
Dowse.” It was written with exceeding art, made many profes- 
sions of friendship, spoke of the writer’s knowdedge of the woman’s 
friends in England, and of her first husband in particular, and free- 
ly professed the writer’s desire to serve her, while it also contained” 
several ambiguous allusions to certain means of doing so, which 
should be revealed whenever the person to whom the letter was ad- 
dressed should discover a willingness to embark in the undertaking. 
This letter was dated Philadelphia, was addressed to one in New 
York, and it was. old. 

‘‘ This is, indeed, a rare specimen of villainy,” said Paul, as he 
laid down the paper, ‘‘ and has been written in some such -spirit as 
tliat employed by tiie devil when he tempted our common mother. 

1 think 1 never read a better specimen of low, wily cunning.” 

‘‘ And judging by all that w^e already know, it would seem to 
have succeeded. In this letter you will find the gentleman a little 
more explicit; and but a little; though he is evidently encouraged 
by the interest and curiosity betrayed by the w Oman in this copy of 
the answer to his first epistle.” 

Paul read the letter just named, and then he laid it dowm to wait 
for the next, which was still in the hands of his companion. 

‘‘ This is likely to prove a history of unlawful love, and of its 
miserable consequences,” said John Engham in his cool manner, 
as he handed the answers to letter No. 1 and letter No. 2 to Paul. 

” The world is full of such unfortunate adventures, and 1 should 
think the parties English, by a hint or twm you will find in this 
yery honest and conscientious communciation. Strongly artificial, 


HOME AS FOUND. 


173 

social, and political distinctions render expedients of this nature 
more frequent, perhaps, in Great Britain than in any other country. 
Youth is the season of the passions, and many a man in the thought- 
lessness of that period, lays the foundation of bitter regret in after 
life.” 

A-S John Effingham raised his eyes, in the act of extending his hand 
toward his companion, he perceived that the fresh ruddy hue of his 
embrowned cheek deepened, until the color ditiused itself over the 
whole of his fine brow. At first an unpleasant suspicion flashed on 
.John Effingham, and he admitted it with regret, for Eve and her 
future happiness had got to be closely associated in his mind with 
the character and conduct of the young man; but when Paul took 
the papers steadily, and by an effort seemed to subdue all un- 
pleasant feelings, the calm dignity with which he read them com- 
pletely effaced the disagreeable distrust. It was then John Effingham 
remembered that he had once believed Paul himself might be the 
fruits of the heartless indiscretion he condemned. Commiseration 
ana sympathy instantly took the place of the first impression, and 
he was so much absorbed with these feelings that he had not taken 
up the letter which was to follow, when Paul laid down the paper 
he had last been required to read. 

” This does, indeed, sir, seem to foretell one of those painful 
histories of unbridled passion, with the still more painful conse- 
quences,” said the young man, with the steadiness of one who wns 
unconscious of having a personal connection with any events of a 
nature so unpleasant. “ Let us examine further.” 

John Effingham felt emboldened by these encouraging signs of 
unconcern, and he read the succeeding letters aloud, so that they 
learned their contents simultaneously". Tlie nest six or eight com- 
munications betrayed nothing distinctly, beyond the fact that the 
child which formed the subject of the wliole correspondence was to 
be received by Peter Dowse and his wife, and to be retained as their 
own offspring, for the consideration of a considerable sum, with an 
additional engagement to pay an annuity. It appeared by these 
letters also that the child, which was hypocritically alluded to under 
the name of the ” pet,” had been actually transferred to the keeping 
of Jane Dowse, and that several years passed after this arrangement 
before the correspondence terminated. Most of the later letters 
referred to the payment of the annuity, although they contained 
cold inquiries after the ‘‘ pet,” and answers so vague and general as 
sufficieutly to prove that the term was singularly misapplied. In 
the whole, there were some thirty or forty letters, each of which had 
been punctually answered, and their dates covered a space of near 
twelve years. The perusal of all these papers consumed more than 
an hour, and when John Effingham laid his spectacles on the table, 
the village clock had struck the hour of midnight. 

” As yet,” he observed, ‘‘ we have learned little more than the 
fact that a child was made to take a false character, without pos- 
sessing any other clew to the circumstances than is given in the 
names of the parties, all of whom are evidently obscure, and one of 
the most material of whom, we are plainly told, must have borne 
a fictitious name. Even poor Monday, in possession of so much 
collateral testimony that we want, could not have known what was 


174 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


the precise injustice done, it any, or certainly, with the intentions 
he manifests, he would not have left that important particular in 
the dark.” 

“ This is likely to prove a complicated affair,” returned Paul, 
” and it is not very clear that we can be of any itnmediate service. 
As you are probably fatigued, we may without impropriety defer 
the further examination to another time.” 

To this John Effingham assented, and Paul, during the short con- 
versation that followed, brought the secretaire from the toilet to the 
table, along with the bundle of important papers that belonged to 
himself, to which he had alluded, and busied himself in rei)lacing 
the whole in the drawer from which they had been taken. 

“ All the formalities about the seals, that we observed when poor 
jMonday gave us the packet, would now seem to be unnecessary,” 
he remarked, while thus occupied, ” and it will probably be suffi- 
cient if 1 leave thev secretaire in your room, and keep the keys my- 
self.” 

” One never knows,” returned John Effingham, with the greater 
caution of experience and age. ‘‘We have not read all the papers, 
and there are wax and lights before you; each has his watch and 
seal, and it will be the work of a minute only to replace everything 
as we left the package originally. When this is done, you may 
leave the secietaire, or remove it at your own pleasure.” 

‘‘ 1 will leave it; for though it contains so much that 1 prize, and 
which is really of great importance to myself, it contains nothing 
for which I shall have immediate occasion.” 

‘‘ In that case it were better that I place the package in which we 
have a common interest in an armoire, or in my secretaire, and that 
3^011 keep your precious effects more immediately under your own 
eye.” 

‘‘ It is immaterial, unless the case will inconvenience you, for 1 do 
not know that 1 am not happier when it is out of my sight, so long 
as 1 feel certain of its security, than when it is constantly before my 
eyes.” 

Paul said this with a forced smile, and there was a sadness in his 
countenance that excited the sy^mpathy of his companion. Tlie 
hitter, liowever, merel}' bowed his assent, and the papers were re- 
i:)laced, and the secretaire was locked and deposited in an armoire in 
silence. Paul was then about to wish the other good-night, when 
John Effingham seized his hand, and by a gentle effort induced him 
to resume Ids seat. An embarrassing, but short pause succeeded, 
when the latter spoke. 

” W e have suffered enough in company, and have seen each otlier 
in situations of sufficient trial, to be friends,” he said. ‘‘ I should 
lee) mortified did 1 believe you could think me influenced by an im- 
jiroper curiosity, in wishing to share more of your confidence than 
perhaps you are willing to bestow; 1 trust .you will attribute to its 
right motive the liberty 1 am now taking. Age makes some differ- 
ence between us, and the sincere and strong interest 1 feel in 5 ^our 
welfare ought to give nie a small claim not to be treated as a total 
stranger. So jealous and watchful has this interest been, 1 might 
with truth call it affection, that 1 have discovered you are not 
situated exactly as other men in your condition of life are situated. 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


175 


and 1 feel persuaded that the sympathy, perhaps the advice, of 
one so many years older than yourself might be useful. You have 
already said so much to me on the subject of your personal situa- 
tion that 1 almost feel a right to ask for more,” 

John Effingham uttered this in his mildest and most winning 
manner; and tew men could carry with them, on such an occasion, 
more ot persuasion in their voices and looks. Paul’s features 
worked, and it w'as evident to his companion that he was moved, 
while, at the same time, he was not displeased. 

” 1 am grateful, deeply grateful, sir, for this interest in my happi- 
ness,” Paul ans-wered, ” and if 1 knew the particular points on 
which you feel any curiosity, there is nothing that 1 can desire to 
conceal. Have the further kindness to question me, Mr. Effingham, 
that 1 need not touch on things you do not care to hear.” 

‘‘ All that really concerns your welfare would have interest wifh 
me. You have been the agent of rescuing not only myself, but 
those whom 1 most love, fiom a fate worse than death; and, a 
childless bachelor myself, 1 have more than once thought of at- 
tempting to supply the places of those natural friends that 1 fear 
you have lost. Your parents — ” 

‘‘ Are both dead. 1 never knew either,” said Paul, who spoke 
huskily, ‘‘and will most cheerfully accept your generous offer, if 
you wdll allow me to attach to it a single condition,” 

‘‘ Beggars must not be choosers,” returned John Effingham, ‘‘ and 
if you will allow me tu feel this interest in you, and occasionally to 
share in the confidence of a father, 1 shall nqt insist on any un- 
reasonable terms. What is your condition?” 

‘‘ That the word m-oney may be struck out of our vocabulary, 
and that you leave your will unalteied. Were the world to be ex- 
amined you could not find a worthier or a lovelier heiress than the 
one you have already selected, and whom Providence itself has 
given you. Compared with yourself, 1 am not rich; but 1 have a 
gentleman’s income, and as 1 shall probably never marry it will 
suffice for all my wants.” 

John Effingham was more pleased than he cared to express with 
this frankness, and with the secret sympathy that had existed be- 
tween them; but he smiled at the injunction; for, with Eve’s 
knowledge, and her father’s entire approbation, he had actually 
made a codicil to his will, in which their young protector was left 
one halt of his large fortune. 

‘‘ The will may remain untouched, if you desire it,” he answ^ered, 
evasively, ” and that condition is disposed of. 1 am glaa to learn 
so tlirectly from yourself, what your manner of living and the i-e- 
ports of others had prepared me to hear, that you .are independent. 
This fact alone will place us solely on our mutual esteem, and ren- 
der the friendship that 1 hope is now brought within a covenant, if 
not now first established, more equal and frank. You have seen 
much of the world, Powis, tor your years and profession?” 

‘‘ It is usual to think that men of my profession see much of the 
world, as a consequence ot their pursuits; though I agree with 
you, sir, that this is seeing ihe world only in a very limited circle, 
^t is now several years since circumstances, 1 might almost say the 
imperative order of one whom 1 was bound to obey, induced me to 


176 


HOME AS FOUND. 


resign, ana since that time 1 have done little else but travel. Owing 
to certain adventitious causes, 1 have enjoyed an access to European 
society that few of our countrymen possess, and 1 hope the advan- 
tage has not been entirely thrown away. It was as a traveler on the 
continent of Europe that 1 had the pleasure of first meeting with 
Mr. and Mrs. Effingham. 1 was much abroad, even as a child, 
and owe some little skill in foreign languages to that circumstance.” 

‘‘ So my cousin has informed me. You have set the question of 
country at rest, by declaring that you are an American, and yet 1 
find you have English relatives. Captain Ducie, 1 believe, is a kins- 
man?” 

” He is. We are sisters’ children, though our friendship has not 
always been such as the connection would infer. When Ducie and 
myself met at sea, there was an awkwardness, if not a coolness, in 
the interview, that, coupled with mj^ sudden return to England, 1 
tear did not make the most favorable impression on those who wit- 
nessed wha:t passed.” 

‘‘We had confidence in your principles,” said John Effingham, 
with a frank simplicity, ‘‘and though the first surmises were not 
pleasant, perhaps, a little reflection told us that there was no just 
ground for suspicion.” 

” Ducie is a fine, manly fellow, and has a seaman’s generosity 
and sincerity. 1 had last parted from him on the field where we met 
as enemies, and the circumstance rendered the unexpected meeting 
awkward. Our wounds no longer smarted, it is true; but perhaps, 
we both felt shame and sorrow that they had ever been inflicted.” 

‘‘ It should be a very serious quarrel that could arm sisters’ chil- 
dren against each other,” said John Effingham, gravely. 

‘‘ 1 admit as much. But, at that time. Captain Ducie was not 
disposed to admit the consanguinity, and the oflense grew out of an 
intemperate resentment of some imputations on my birth; between 
two military men, the issue could scarcely be avoided. Ducie chal- 
lenged, and 1 was not then in the humor to balk him. A couple of 
flesh-wounds happily terminated the affair. But an interval of 
three years had enabled my enemy to discover that he had not done 
me justice; that 1 had been causelessly provoked to the quarrel, and 
that we ought to be firm friends. The generous desire to make 
suitable expiation urged him to seize the first occasion of coming to 
America that offered; and when ordered to ehase the ‘ Montauk,’ 
bv a telegraphic communication from London, he was hourly ex- 
pecting to sail for our seas, where he wished to come, expressly that 
we might meet. Y'ou will judge, therefore, how happy he was to 
find me unexpectedly in the vessel that contained his principal ob- 
ject of pursuit, thus killing, as it might be, two birds with one 
stone.” 

‘‘ And did he carry you away with him with any such murderous 
intention?” demanded John Effingham, smiling. 

‘‘By no means. Nothing could be more amicable than Ducie 
and myself got to be, when we had been a few hours together in his 
cabin. As often happens, when there have been violent antipathies 
and unreasonable prejudices, a nearer view of each other’s character 
and motives removed every obstacle; and long before we readied 
England, two warmer friends could not be found, or a more frank 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


177 


intercourse between relatives could not be desired. You are aware, 
sir, that our English cousins do not often view their Cisatlantic 
relatives with the most lenient eyes.” 

” This is but too true,” said John Effingham proudly, though 
his lip quivered as he spoke, ” and it is, in a great measure, the 
fault of that miserable mental bondage which has left this country, 
after sixty years of nominal independence, so much at the mercy of 
a hostile opinion. It is necessary that we respect ourselves in order 
that others respect us.” 

” 1 agree with you, sir, entirely. In my case, however, previous 
injustice disposed my relatives to receive me better, perhaps, than 
might otherwise have been the case. 1 had little to ask in the way 
of fortune, and feeling no disposition to raise a question that might 
disturb the peerage of the Ducies, 1 became a favorite.” 

” A peerage! Both 3 our parents, then, were English?” 

” IN either, I believe; but the connection between the two countries 
was so- close that it can occasion no surprise a right of this nature 
should have passed into the colonies. My mother’s mother became 
the heiress of one of those ancient baronies that pass to the heirs- 
general, and in consequence of the deaths of two brothers, these 
rights, which, however, were never actually possessed by any of the 
previous generation, centered in my mother and my aunt. The for- 
mer being dead, as w£s contended, without issue — ” 

” You forget yourself!” 

” Lawful issue,” added Paul, reddening to the temples, ” 1 should 
have added; Mrs. Ducie who was married to the younger son of an 
English nobleruan, claimed and obtained the rank. ]\Iy pretension 
would have left the peerage in abe 3 'ance, and 1 probably owe some 
little of the opposition I found to that circumstance. But, after 
Ducie’s generous conduct, 1 could not hesitate about joining in the 
apnlication to the crown, that, by its d(icision, the abeyance might 
be determined in favor of the person, who was in possession; and 
Lady Dunluce is now quietly confirmed in her claim.” 

” There are many young men in this country who would ding to 
the hopes of a British peerage with greater tenacity!” 

‘‘It is probable there are; but my self-denial is not of a very 
high order, for it could scarcely be expected the English ministers 
would consent to give the rank to a foreigner who did not hesitate 
about avowing his principles and national feelings. 1 shall not say 
1 did not covet this peerage, for it would be supererogatory; but *1 
am born an American, and will die an American; and aii American 
who swaggers about such a claim is like the daw among the pea- 
cocks. The least that is said about it the better.” 

” You are fortunate to have escaped the journals, which most 
probably would have begraced you, by elevating you at once to the 
rank of a duke.” 

” Instead of which 1 had no other station than that of a dog in 
the manger.* If it makes my aunt happy to be called Lady Dunluce, 
1 am sure she is welcome to the privilege; and when Ducie succeeds 
her, as will one da\" be the case, an excellent fellow will be a peer of 
England. Voild tout! You are the only countr 3 rman, sir, to whom 
1 have ever spoken of the circumstance, and with you, 1 trust, it 
will remain a secret.'’ 


178 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


“ What! am 1 precluded from mentioning the facts in my own 
family? 1 am not the only sincere, the only warm friend you have 
in this house, Powis.” 

“ In that respect, 1 leave you to act your pleasure, my dear sir. If 
Mr. Effingham feels sufficient interest in my fortunes, to wish to 
hear what I have told you, let there be no silly mysteries — or — or 
Mademoiselle Viefville — ” 

“ Or Nanny Sidley, or Annette,” interrupted John Effingham, 
with a kind smile. “ Well, trust to me for that; but, before we 
separate for the night, 1 wish to ascertain beyond question one 
other tact, although the circumstances you have stated scarce leave 
a doubt of the reply.” 

‘‘ 1 understand you, sir, and did not intend to leave you in any 
uncertainty on that important particular. If there can be a feeling 
more painful than all others, with a man of any pride, it is to dis- 
trust the purity of his mother. Mine was beyond reproach, thank 
God, and so it was most clearly established, or 1 could certainly have 
had no legal claim to the peerage. 

” Or your fortune,” added John Effingham, drawing a long 
breath, like one suddenly relieved from an unxjleasant suspicion. 

” My fortune comes from neither parent, but from one of those 
generous dispositions, or caprices if you will, that sometimes in- 
duce men to adopt those who are alien to their blood. My guardian 
adopted me, took me abroad with him, and placed me, quite young, 
in the navy, and dying, he finally left me all he possessed. As he 
was a bachelor, with no near relative, and had been the artisan of 
his own fortune, 1 could have no hesitation about accepting the gift 
he so liberally bequeathed. It was coupled with the condition that 1 
should retire from the service, travel lor five years, return home, 
and marry. There is no silly forfeiture exacted in either case, but 
such is the general course solemnly advised by a man who showed 
himself my true friend lor so many years.” 

“ l.envy him the opportunity he enjoyed of serving you. 1 hope 
he would liave approved of your national pride, for 1 believe we 
must put that at the bottom of your disinterestedness in the affairs 
of the peerage. ' ’ 

~ ” He would, indeed; although he never knew anything of the 
claim which arose out of the death of the two lords who preceded 
my aunt, and who were the brothers of my grandmother. My guard- 
ian was in all respects a man, and in nothing more than in manh^ 
national pride. AVhile abroad a decoration was offered him, and he 
declined it with the character and dignity of one who felt that dis- 
tinctions which his country rex^udiated every gentleman belonging 
to that country ought to reject; and yet he did it with a respectful 
gratitude for the compliment that was due to the government from 
which the offer came.” 

” 1 almost envy that man,” said John Effingham, with warmth. 

To have appreciated you, Powis, was a mark of a high judgment; 
but it seems he properly appreciated himself, his country, and hu- 
man nature.” 

” And yet he was little appreciated in his turn. That man passed 
years in one of our largest towns, of no more apparent account 


HOME AS FOUHD. 179 

among its population than any one of its commoner spirits, and of 
not halt as much as one of its bustling brokers or jobbers.” 

“In that there is nothing surprising. The class of the chosen few 
is too small everywhere to be very numerous at any given point, in 
a scattered population like that of America. The broker will as 
naturally appreciate the broker as the dog appreciates the dog, or 
the wolf the wolf. Least of all is the manliness you have named 
likely to be valued among a people who have been put into men’s 
clothes before they are out of leading-strings. 1 am older than you, 
my dear Paul ” — it was the first time John Effingham ever used so 
familiar an appellation, and the young man thought it sounded 
kindly. “1 am older than you, my dear Paul, and will venture to 
tell you an important fact that may hereafter lessen some of your 
own mortifications. In most nations there is a high standard to 
which man at least affects to look; and acts are extolled and seem- 
ingly appreciated for their naked merits. Little of this exists in 
America, where no man is much praised for himself, but for the 
purposes of party, or to feed national vanity. In the country in 
which, of all others, political opinion ougnt to be the freest, it is 
the most persecuted, and the community-character of the nation in- 
duces every man to think he has a right of property in all its fame. 
England exhibits a great deal of this weakness and injustice, which, 
it is to be feared, is a vicious fruit of liberty; for it is certain that 
the sacred nature of opinion is most appreciated in those countries 
in which it has the least etficiency. IVe are constantly deriding those 
governments which f^^tter opinion, and yet 1 know of no nation in 
which the expression of opinion is so certain to attract persecution 
and hostility as our own, though it may be, and is, in one sense, 
free.” 

“ This arises from its potency. Men quarrel about opinion here, 
because opinion rules. It is but one mode of struggling for power. 
But to return to my guardian; lie was a man to think and act for 
himself, and as far from the magazine and newspaper existence that 
most Americans, in a moral sense, pass, as any man could be.” 

“It is indeed a newspaper and magazine existence,” said John 
Effingham, smiling at Paul’s terms, “ to know life only through 
such mediums! It is as bad as the condition* of those English who 
form their notions of society fiom novels written by men and 
women who have no access to it, and from the records of the court 
journal. 1 thank you sincerely, Mr. Powis, for this confidence, 
which has not been idly solicited on my part, and which shall not 
be abused. At no distant day we will break the seals again, and 
renew our investigations into this afl’air of the unfortunate Monday, 
wdiich is not yet, certainly, very promising in the way of revela- 
tions.” 

The gentlemen shook hands cordially, and Paul, lighted by his 
companion, withdrew. When the young man was at the door of 
his own room he turned, and saw John Effingham following him 
with his eye. The latter then renewed the good night, with one of 
those winning smiles that rendered his face so biilliantly handsome, 
and each retired. 


180 


HOME AS FOUND. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

Item, a capon, 2s. 2d. 

Item, sauce, Ad. 

Item, sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. 

Item, bread, a half-penny. 

Shakespeare. 

The next day John Effingham made no allusion lo the conversa- 
(iou of the previous night, though the squeeze of the hand he gave 
Paul when they met was an assurance that nothing was forgotten. 
As he had a secret pleasure m obeying any injunction of Eve’s, the 
young man himself sought Captain Truck even before they had 
breakfasted; and as he had made an acquaintance with “ the com- 
modore ” on the lake, previously to the arrival of the Effiughams, 
that worthy was summoned, and regularly introduced to the honest 
ship-master. The meeting between these two distinguished men 
was grave, ceremonious, and dignified, each- probably feeling that 
he was temporarily the guardian of a particular portion of an ele- 
ment that was equally dear to both. After a few minutes passed, 
as it might be, in tne preliminary points of etiquette, a better feel- 
ing and mote confidence was established, and it was soon settled 
that they should fish in company the rest of the day, Paul prom- 
ising to row the ladies out on the lake, and to join them in the course 
of the atternoon. 

As the party quitted the breakfast-table, Eve took an occasion to 
thank the young man tor his attention to their common friend, 
who, it was reported, had taken his morning’s repast at an early 
hour, and was already on the lake, the day by this time having^ad- 
vanced within two hours of noon. 

“ 1 have dared even to exceed your instructions. Miss Effingham,’' 
said Paul, “ for I have promised the captain to endeavor to persuade 
you, and as many of I he ladies as possible, to trust yourselves to my 
seamanship, and to submit to be rowed out to the spot where we 
shall find him and his friend, the commodore, riding at anchor.*' 

“ An engagement that my influence shall be used to see fulfilled. 
Mrs. Bloomfield has already expressed a desire to go on the Otsego- 
water, and 1 make no doubt 1 shall find other companions. Once 
more let me thank you for this little attention, tor I too well know 
your tastes not to understand that you might find a more agreeable 
ward.” 

” Upon my word 1 feel a sincere regard for onr old captain, and 
could often wish tor no belter companion. Were he, however, as 
disagreeable as 1 find him, in truth, pleasant and frank, your wishes 
would conceal all his faults.” 

‘‘ You have learned, Mr. Powis, that small attentions are as much 
remembered as important services, and after having saved our lives, 
wish to prove that you can discharge les petUs devoirn socials, as well 
as perform great deeds. 1 trust you will persuade Sir George Teni- 
plemore to be of our party, and at four we shall be ready to accom- 
pany you; until then 1 am contracted to a gossip with Mrs. Bloom- 
field, in her dressing-room.” 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


181 


We shall now leave the party on the land, and follow those who 
have already taken boat, for the flshermen. The beginning of the in- 
tei course between the salt-water navigator and his tresh-water com- 
panion was again a little constrained and critical. Their profes- 
sional terms agreed as ill as possible, for when the captain used the 
expression “ ship the oars,” the commodore understood just the re- 
verse of what it had been intended to express; and once, when he 
told his companion to ” give way,” the matter took the hint so liter- 
ally as actually to cease rowing. All these professional niceties in- 
duced the wortliy ship-master to undervalue his companion, who, 
in the main, was very skillful in his particular pursuit, though it 
vvas a skill that he excited after the fashions of his own lake, and 
not after the fashions of the ocean. Owing to several contretemps 
of this nature, by the time they reached the fishing- ground the cap- 
tain began to entertain ^ feeling for the commodore that ill comport- 
ed with the deference due to his titular rank. 

” 1 have come out with you, commodore,” said Captain Truck, 
when they had got to their station, and laying a peculiar emphasis 
on the appellation he used, ‘‘ in order to enjoy myself, and you will 
confer an especial favor on me by not using such phrases as ‘ cable- 
rope,’ ‘ casting anchor,’ and ‘titivating.’ As for the two first, no 
seaman ever uses them, and 1 never heard such a word on board a 

ship as the last. D e, sir, it 1 believe it is to be found in the 

dictionary, even.” 

‘‘\ou amaze me, sir! ‘Casting anchor’ and ‘cable-rope’ are 
both Bible phrases, and thej'’ must be right.” 

” That follows by no means, commodore, as I have some reason 
to know; for my father having been a parson and 1 being a seaman, 
we may be said to have the whole subject, as it were, in the family. 
St. Paul — you have heard of such a man as St. Paul, commodore?” 

‘‘ 1 know him almost by heart. Captain Truck; but St. Peter and 
St. Andrew w^ere the men most after my heart. Ours is an ancient 
calling, sir. and in those two instances you see to what a fisherman 
can rise. 1 do not remember to have ever heard of a sea-captaiu 
who was converted into a saint.” 

” Ay, ay, there is always too much to do on board ship to have 
time to be much more than a beginner in religion. There was my 
mate, v’y’ge before last, Tom Leach, who is now master of a ship 
of his own, had he been brought up to it properly, he would have 
made as conscientious a parson as did his giaudtather before him. 
Such a man would liave been a seaman as well as a parson. 1 have 
little to say against St. Peter or St. Andrew, but, in my judgment, 
they w’^ere none the better saints for having been fishermen; and if 
the truth were knowji, 1 dare say they were at the bottom of intro- 
ducing such lubberly phrases into the Bible as ‘ casting anchor ’ and 
‘ cable-rope.’ ” 

“ Pray, sir,” asked the commodore, with dignity, ‘‘ what are you 
in the practice of saying when you speak of such matters?— tor, to 
be frank with you, we always use these terms on these lakes.” 

” Ay, a}', there is a fresh-water smell about them. We say 
‘anchor,’ or ‘let go the anchoi,’ or ‘ drop the anchor,* or some 
such reasonable expression, and not ‘ cast anchor,’ as if a bit of iron, 
weighing two or three tons, is to be jerked about like a stone big 


182 


HOME AS FOUND. 


enough to kill a bird with. As for the ‘ cable-rope,’ as you call it, 
we say the ‘ cable,’ or ‘ the chain,’ or ‘ the ground tackle,’ accord- 
ing to reason and circumstances. Aou never hear a real ‘ salt ’ 
nourishing his ‘cable-ropes,’ and his ‘casting-anchors,’ which are 
altogether too sentimental and particular lor his manner of speak- 
ing. As for ‘ ropes,’ 1 suppose you have not got to be a commo- 
dore, and need being told how many there are in a ship.” 

” I do not pretend to have counted them, but 1 have seen a ship, 
sir, and one under full sail, too, and 1 know there were as many 
i\)pes about her as there are pines on the Vision.” 

” Are there more than seven of these trees on your mountain? for 
that is just the number of ropes in a merchantman; though a nian-ol 
war’s-Qian counts one or tw^o more.” 

“You astonish me, sir! But seven ropes in a ship? 1 should 
have said there are seven hundred!” • 

‘‘ 1 dare say, 1 dare say; that is just the way in which a landsman 
pretends to criticise a vessel. As tor the ropes, 1 will now give you 
their names, and then you can lay athwart hawse ot these canoe 
gently by the hour, and teach them rigging and modesty both at the 
same time. In the first place,” continued the captain, jtirking at his 
line, and then beginning to count on his fingers — ‘‘ there is the 
‘man-rope;’ then come the ‘bucket-rope,’ the ‘tiller-rope,’ the 
‘ bolt-rope,’ the ‘ foot-rope,’ the ‘ top-rope,’ and the ‘ limber-rope.’ 
1 have followed the seas, now, more than halt a century, and never 
yet heard of a ‘cable-rope/ from an}" one who could hand, reef, 
and steer.” 

‘‘ Well, sir, every man to his trade,” said the commodore, who 
just then pulled in a fine pickerel, which was the third he had 
taken, while his companion rejoiced in no more than a few fruitless 
bites. ‘‘ You are more expert in ropes than in lines, it would seem. 
1 shall not deny your experience and knowledge; but in the way of 
fishing, you will at least allow that the sea is no great school. 1 dare 
say, now, it you w-ere to hook the ‘ sogdollager ’ we should have 
you jumping into the lake to get rid of him. Quite probably, sir, 
you never before heard of that celebrated fish?” 

Notwithstanding the many excellent qualities-of Captain Truck, 
he had a weakness that is rather peculiar to a class of men who, hav- 
ing seen so much of this earth, are unwilling to admit they have, not 
seen it all. The little brush in which he was now engaged with the 
commodore he conceived due to his own dignity, and his motive 
was duly to impress his companion with his superiority, which being 
fairly admitted, he would have been ready enough to acknowledge 
that the other understood pike-fishing much better than himself. 
But it was quite too early in the discussion to make any such 
avowal, and the supercilious remark of the commodore putting him 
on his mettle, he was ready to affirm that he had eaten ” sogdol- 
lagers ” for breakfast, a month at a time, had it been necessary. 

‘‘ Booh! pooh! man,” returned the captain, with an air of cool 
indifterence, ‘‘ you do not surely fancy that you have au3"thing in a 
lake like this that is not to be found in the ocean! If you were to 
see a whale’s flukes thrashing your puddle every cruiser among you 
would run for a port; and as for * sogdollagers, ’ we think Jillle of 


HOME AS FOUND. 183 

them in salt water; the fljnng-fish, or even the dry dolphin, being 
much the best eating.” 

” Sir,” said the commodore, with some heat, and a great deal of 
emphasis, ‘‘ there is but one ‘ sogdol lager ’ in the world, and he is in 
this lake. No man has ever seen him but my predecessor, the ‘ Ad- 
miral,’ and myself.” 

‘‘ Bah!” ejaculated the captair, ‘ they are as plenty as soft clams 
in the Mediterranean, and the Egyptians use them as a pan-fish. In 
the East they catch them to bait with for halibut and other mid- 
dling-sized creatures, that are particular about their diet. It is a 
good fish, 1 own, as is seen in this very circumstance.” 

” Sir,” repeated the commodore, flourishing his hand, and wax- 
ing warm with earnestness, ‘‘ there is but one ‘ sogdollager in the 
universe, and that is in Lake Otsego. A ‘ sogdollager ’ is a salmon 
trout, and not a species; a sort of father to all the salmon trout in 
this part of the world; a scaly patriarch.” 

‘‘ 1 make no doubt your ‘ sogdollager ’ is scaly enough; but what 
is the use of wasting words about such a trifle ? A whale is the 
only fish fit to occupy a gentleniau’s thoughts. As long as 1 have 
been at sea 1 have never witnessed the taking of more than three 
whales.” 

This allusion happily preserved the peace; for, if there were any- 
thing iu the world for which the commodore entertained a profound 
but obscure reverence, it was for a whale. He even thought better 
of a man for having actually seen one gamboling in the freedom of 
the ocean ; and his mind became suddenly oppressed by the glory of 
a mariner who had passed his life among such gigantic animals. 
Shoving back his cap, the old man gazed steadily at the captain a 
minute, and all his displeasure about the ‘‘ sogdollagers ” vanished, 
though, in his inmost mind, he set down all that the other had told 
him on that particular subject as so many parts of a regular “ fish- 
story.” 

‘‘ Captain Truck,” he said, with solemnity, ” 1 acknowledge my- 
self to be an ignorant and inexperienced man, one who has passed 
his life on this lake, which, broad and beautiful as it is, must seem 
a pond in the eyes of a seaman like yourself, who have passed your 
days on the Atlantic — ” 

” Atlantic!” interrupted the captain, contemptuously; ” I should 
have but a poor opinion of myself, had 1 eeen nothing but the At- 
lantic! Indeed, 1 never can believe 1 am at sea at all on the Atlantic, 
the passages between New York and Portsmouth being little more 
than so much canaling along a tow-path. If you wish to say any- 
thing about oceans, talk of the Pacific or of the Great South Sea, 
where a man may run a month with a fair wind, and hardly go from 
island to island. Indeed, that is an ocean in which there is a manu- 
factory of islands, for they turn them oil in lots to supply the 
market, and of a size to suit customers.” 

‘‘A manufactory of islands!” repeated the commodore, wiio 
began to entertain an awe of his companion that he never expected 
to feel for any human being on Lake Otsego; ” are you certain, sir, 
there is no mistake in this?” 

” None in the least; not only islands, but whole archipelagos are 
made annually by the sea insects iu that quarter of the w^orld; but, 


184 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


then, you are not to form your notions of an insect in such an ocean 
by the insects you see in such a bit of water as this.” 

” As big as our pickerel, or salmon trout, 1 dare say?” returned 
the commodore, in the simplicity ot his heart; for by this time his 
local and exclusive conceit was thoroughly humbled, and he was al- 
most ready to believe anything. 

” 1 say nothing ot their size, lor it is to their numbers and in- 
dustry that 1 principally allude now. A solitary shark, 1 dare say, 
would set your whole lake in commotion?” 

” 1 think we might manage a shark, sir. I once saw one of those 
animals, and 1 do really believe the sogdollager would outweigh 
him. 1 do think we might manage a shark, sir.” 

” Ay, you mean an in shore, high-latitude fellow. But what 
would you say to a shark as long as one of those pines on the mount- 
ain?” 

” Such a monster would take in a man, whole!” 

” A man! He would take in a platoon, Indian file. 1 dare say 
one of those pines, now, may be thirty or forty feet high!” 

A gleam ot intelligence and of exultation shot across the weather- 
beaten face of the old fisherman, for he detected a weak spot in the 
other’s knowledge. The worthy captain, with that species of ex- 
clusiveness which accompanies excellence in any one thing, was 
quite ignorant of most matters that pertain to the land. That there 
should be a tree, so far inland, that was larger than his main-yard, 
he did not think probable, although that yard itself was made of 
part of a tree; and, in the laudable intention of duly impressing his 
companion with the superiority ot a real seaman over a mere fresh- 
water navigator, he had inadvertently laid bare a weak spot in his 
estimate of heights and distances, that ihe commodore seized upon 
with some such avidity as the pike seizes the hook. This accidental 
mistake alone saved the latter from an abject submission, for the cool 
superiority of the captain had so far deprived him of his conceit, that 
he was almost ready to acknowledge himself no better than a dog, 
when he caught a glimpse of light through this opening. 

” There is not a pine, that can be called of ige, on all the mount- 
ain, which is not more than a hundred feet high, and many are nearer 
two,” he cried in exultation, flourishing his hand. “ The sea may 
have its big monsters, captain, but our hills have their big trees. 
Did you ever see a shark half that length?’ 

How, Captain Truck was a man of truth, although so much given 
to occasional humorous violations of its Jaws, and, withal, a little 
disposed to dwell upon the marvels of the great deep in the spirit of 
exaggeration, and he could not in conscience aflirm anything so ex- 
travagant as this. He was accordingly obliged to admit his mistake, 
and from this moment the conversation was carried on with a greater 
regard to equality. They talked, as they fished, of politics, religion, 
philosophy, human nature, the useful arts, abolition, and most other 
subjects that w’ould be likely to interest a couple of Americans who 
had nothing to do but to twitch, from time to time, at two lines dan- 
gling in the water. Although few people possess less ot the art of 
conversation than our own countrymen, no other nation takes as 
wide a range in its discussions. lie is but a very indifterenl Ameri- 
can that does not know, or thinks ho knows, a little ot everything, 


HOME AS FOUND. 


186 


and neither of our worthies was in the least backward in supporting 
the claims of the national character in this respect. This general 
discussion completely restored amity between the parties; tor, to 
confess tlie truth, our old friend the captain was a little rebuked 
about the affair of the tree. The only peculiarity worthy of notice, 
that occurred in the course of their various digressions, was the fact 
that the commodore insensibly began to style his companion 
“ General;” the courtesy ot tlie country, in his eyes, appearing to 
require that a man who had seen so much more than himself, should 
at least enjoy a title equal to his own in rank, and that ot admiral 
being proscribed by the sensitiveness of Republican principles. After 
fisliing a tew hours, the old laker pulled the skiff up to the Point so 
often mentioned, where he liglited afire on the grass, and prepared a 
dinner. When everything was ready, the two seated themselves, 
and began to enjoy the fruits of their labors in a way that wull be 
understood by all sportsmen. 

” I have never thought of asking you, general,” said the com- 
modore, as he began to masticate a perch, ‘‘ whether 3 ^ou are an 
aristocrat or a democrat. We have had the government prett}^ much 
upside-down, too, this morning, but this question has escaped me.” 

” As we are here by ourselves under these venerable oaks, and 
talking like two old messmates,” returned the general, ” I shall just 
own the truth, and make no bones of it. 1 have been captain of my 
own ship so long, that 1 have a most thorough contempt for all 
equality. It is a vice that I deprecate, and, w'hatever may be the 
laws of this country, 1 am of opinion that equality is nowdiere borne 
out by the Law of Nations; ft’hich, after all, commodore, is the only 
true law for a gentleman to live under.” 

” Tliat is the lew of the strongest, if 1 understand the matter, 
general.” 

“ Only reduced to rules. The Law of Nations, to own the truth 
tD 5 "Ou, is full of categories, and this will give an enterprising man 
an opportunity to make use of his knowledge. Would you believe, 
commodore, that there are countries in which they lay taxes on 
tobacco?” 

‘‘ Taxes on tobacco! Sir, 1 never heard of such an act of oppres- 
sion under the forms of law! What has tobacco done, that any one 
should think of taxing it?” 

” 1 believe, commodore, that its greatest offense is being so general 
a favorite. Taxation. 1 have found, difl:ers from most other things, 
generally attacking that which men most prize.” 

” This is quite new to me, general; a tax on tobacco! The law- 
makers in those countries can not chew. 1 drink to your good health, 
sir, and to many happy returns of such banquets as this.” 

llere tlie commodore raised a laige silver punch-bowl, wdiich 
Pierre had furnished, to his lips, and fastening his ey3S on the 
boughs ot a gnarled oak, he looked like a man wdio was taking an 
observation, for near a minute. All this time, the captain regarded 
him with a sympathetic pleasure, and when the bowl was free, he 
imitated his example, leveling his own eye at a cloud that seemed 
floating at an angle of forty-five degrees above him, expressly for 
that purpose. 

“ There is a lazy cloud!” exclaimed the general, as he let go his 


186 


HOME AS FOUND. 


hold to catch breath; “ 1 have been watching it some time, and it 
has not mo^ed an inch.” 

Tobacco!” repeated the commodore, drawing a long breath, as 
if he was just recovering the play ot his lungs, “ 1 should as soon 
think ot laying a tax on punch. The country that pursues such a 
policy must sooner or later meet with a downfall. 1 never knew 
good to come ot persecution.” 

” 1 find you are a sensible man, commodore, and regret 1 did not 
make your acquaintance earlier in life. Have you yet made up your 
mind on the subject ot religious faith?” 

” Why, my dear general, not to be nibbling, like a sucker wdth a 
sore mouth, with a person ot your liberality, 1 shall give you a 
plain history of my adventures, in the way ot experiences, that you 
ma}’’ judge for yourself. 1 was born an Episcopalian, if one can say 
so, but was converted to Presbyterianism at twenty. I stuck to this 
denominaliou about five j^ears, wlien 1 thought 1 would try the 
Baptists, having got to be fond of Ihewuiter by this time. At thirty- 
two 1 fished awhile with the Methodists; since which conversion, 1 
have chosen to worship God pretty much by myself, out here on the 
lake.” 

‘‘ Do you consider it any harm to hook a fish of a Sunday?” 

” No more than it is to eat a fish of a Sunday. 1 go altogether by 
faith in my religion, general, tor they talk so much to me of the 
uselessness of works that I’ve got to be very iinparticular as to what 
1 do. Your people who have been converted four or five times are 
like so many pickerel, which strike at every hook.” 

‘‘ This is very much my case. Nowq on the river— of course, tou 
know’^ w^here the river is?” 

” Certain,” said the commodore; ” it is at the foot of the lake.” 

” My dear commodore, wdien we say ‘ the river,’ we always mean 
the Connecticut; and 1 am surprised a man of your sagacity should 
require to be told this. There are people on the river who contend 
that a ship should heave-to ot a Sunday. They did talk of getting 
up an Anti-Sunda}" Sailing-Society, but the ship-masters were too 
many for them, since they threatened to start a society to put dowm 
the growing of inyens” (the captain would sometimes use this pro- 
nunciation) ” except of week-days. Well, 1 started in life on the plat- 
form tack, in the way of religion, and 1 believe 1 shall stand on the 
same course till ordeis come to ‘ cast anchor,’ as you call it. With 
5’ou, 1 hold out for faith, as the* one thing needful. Pray, my good 
friend, what are your real sentiments concerning ‘ Old Hickory ’?” 

’ ” Tough, sir; tough as a day in February on this lake. All hus, 

and gills, and bones.” 

” That is the justest character 1 have yet heard ot the old gentle- 
man, and then it says so much in a few words; no categor}^ about 
it. 1 hope the punch is to your liking?” 

On this hint the old fisherman raised the bowl a second time to 
his lips, and renewed the agreeable duty of letting its contents flow 
down his throat in a pleasant stream. This time he took aim at a 
gull that was sailing over his head, only relinquishing the draught 
as the bird settled into the water. The ” general ” was more partic- 
ular; for, selecting a stationary object in the top of an oak that 
grew on the mountain near him, he studied it with an admirable ab- 


HOME AS FOUKD, 


187 

struscness of attention, until the last drop w£S drained. As soon as 
this startling fact was mentioned, however, both the convives set about 
repairing the accident, by squeezing lemons, sweetening water, and 
mixing liquors, secundum artem. At the same time, each lighted a 
cigar, and the conversation, for some time, was carried on between 
their teeth. 

“We have been so frank with each other to-day, my excellent com- 
modore,” said Captain Truck, “ that did 1 know your true senti- 
ments concerning Temperance Societies, I should look on your in- 
most soul as a part of myself. By these free communications men 
get really to know each other.” 

“ It liquor is not made to be drunk, for what is it made? Any 
one may see that this lake was made for skiffs and fishing; it has a 
length, breadth, and depth suited to sucn purposes. INow, here is 
liquor distilled, bottled, and corked, and I ask if all does not show 
it was made to be drunk. 1 dare say your temperance men are in- 
genious, but let them answer that if they can.” 

“ 1 wish from my heart, my dear sir, we had known each other 
fifty years since, 'fhat would have brought you acquainted with 
salt-water, and left nothing to be desired in your character. We 
think alike, 1 believe, in everything but on the virtues of fresh 
water. If these temperance people had their way, we should all be 
turned into so many Turks,, who never taste wine, and yet marry a 
dozen wives.” 

“ One of the great merits of fresh water, general, is what 1 call 
its niixable quality.” 

“ Ihere would be an end to Saturday nights, too, which are the 
seamen’s tea-parties.” 

“ 1 question if many of them fish in the rain from sunrise to 
sunset.” 

“ Or stand their watches in wmt pea-jackets from sunset to sun- 
rise. Splicing the main-brace at such times is the very quintessence 
of human enjoyments.” 

“ If liquors were not made to be drunk,” put in the commodore, 
logically, “ 1 would again ask tor what are they made? Let the 
temperance men get over that difficulty if they can.” 

“ Commodore, I wish you twenty more good hearty years of fish- 
ing m this lake, which glows, each instant, more beautiful in my 
eyes, as 1 confess does the whole earth; and to show you that 1 say 
no more than 1 think, 1 will clinch it with a draught.” 

Captain Truck now brought his right eye to bear on the new 
moon, which happened to be at a convenient height, closed the left 
one, and continued in that attitude until the commodore began 
seriously to think he was to get nothing besides the lemon-seeds for 
Ids share. Tliis apprehension, however, could only arise from igno- 
rance of his companion’s character, than whom a juster man, ac- 
cording to the notions of ship-masters, did not live; and had one 
measured the punch that wms left in the bowl when this draught 
was ended, he would have found that precisely one half of it w’as still 
untouched, to a thimbleful. The commodore now had his turn; 
and befoie he got through, the bottom of the vessel was as much up- 
permost as the butt of a clubbed firelock. When the honest fisher- 
man took breath after this exploit, and lowered his cup from tne 


HOME AS FOUND. 


188 

vault of heaven to the surface of the earth, he cauftht a view of a 
boat crossing thelake, coming from the Silent Pine, to that Point on 
which they were enjoying so many agreeable hallucinations on the 
subject of temperance. 

“ Yonder is the party from the Wiffwam,”' he said, “and they 
will be just in time to become converts to our opinions, if they have 
any doubts on the subiect we have discussed. Shall we give up the 
ground to them, by taking to the skiff, or do you feel disposed to 
face the women V” 

“ Under ordinary circumstances, commodore, 1 should prefer 
your society to all the petticoats in the State, but there are two ladies 
in that party, either of whom 1 would marry any day, at a minute’s 
warning.” 

“ Sir,”said thecommodore, wdth atoneof warning, “ we who have 
lived bachelors so long, and are wedded to the water, ought never 
to speak lightly on so grave a subject.” 

“ ISIor do 1. Two women, one of whom is twenty, and the other 
seventy — and hang me if 1 know which 1 prefer.” 

“You would soonest be rid of the last, my dear general, and my 
advice is to fake her.” 

“ Old as she is, sir, a king would have to plead hard to get her 
consent. We will make them some punch, that they may see we 
were mindful of them in their absence.” 

To work these worthies now went in earnest, in order to anticipate 
the arrival of the party, and as the different compounds w^ere in the 
course of mingling, the conversation did not flag. By this time both 
the salt-water and the fresh-water sailor were in that condition when 
men are apt to think aloud, and the commodore had lost all his awe 
of his companion. 

“ My dear sir,” said the former, “ 1 am a thousand times sorry 
you came from that river, for, to tell you my mind without any 
concealment, my only objection to you is that you are not of the 
Middle States. 1 admit the good qualities of the Yankees, in a gen- 
eral way, and yet they are the very worst neighbors that a man can 
have.” 

“ This is a new character of them, commodore, as they generally 
pass tor the best in their own eyes. 1 should like to hear you ex- 
plain your meaning.” 

“ 1 call him a bad neighbor who never remains long enough in a 
place to love anything but himself. Now, sir, 1 have a feeling for 
every pebble on the shore of this lake, a sympathy with every wave ” 
— here the commodore began to twirl his hand about, with the fingers 
standing apart, like so many spikes in ^ che'oaux-de-frUe — “ and each 
hour, as 1 row across it, 1 find 1 like it better; and yet, sir, would 
you believe me, 1 often go away of a morning to pass the day on the 
w’ater, and, on returning home at night, find half the houses filled 
with new’ faces.” 

“ What becomes of the old ones?” demanded Captain Truck; for 
this, it struck him, was getting the better of him with his own 
weapons. “ Do you mean that the people come and go like the 
tides?” 

“ Exactly so, sir; just as it used to be with the herrings in the 


HOME AS FOUKD. 189 

Otsego, before the Susquehanna was dammed, and Is still, with the 
swallows.” 

” Well, well, my good friend, take consolation. You'll meet all 
the faces you ever saw here, one day, in heaven.” 

” Never! Not a man of them will stay there, if there be such a 
thing as moving. Depend on it, sir,” added the commodore, in the 
simplicity of his heart, ” heaven is no plgce for a Yankee, if he can 
get further west, by hook or by crook. They are all too uneasy for 
any steady occupation. You, who are a navigator, must know 
something concerning the stars. Is there such a thing as another 
world that lies west of this?” 

‘‘ That can hardly be, commodore, since the points of the compass 
only refer to objects on this earth. You know, 1 suppose, that a 
man starting from this spot, and traveling due west, would arrive in 
time at this very point, coming in from the east. So that what is 
west to us, in the heavens, on this side of the world, is east to those 
on the other.” 

” This 1 confess I did not know, general, lhave understood that 
what is good in one man’s eyes will be bad in another’s; but never 
before have 1 heard that what is# west to one man lies east to an- 
other. 1 am afraid, general, that there is a little of the sogdolla’ger 
bait in this?” 

“Not enough, sir, to catch the merest fresh-water gudgeon that 
swims. No, no; there is neither east nor wesloff the earth, nor any 
up and down; and so we Yankees must try and content ourselves 
with heaven. Now, commodore, hand me the bowl, and we will 
get it ready down to the shore, and offer the ladies our homage. 
And so you have become a laker in your religion, my dear com- 
modore,” continued the general, between his teeth, while he smoked 
and squeezed a lemon at the same time, “ and do your worshiping 
on the water?” 

“ Altogether, of late, and more especially since my dieam?” 

“ Dream! My dear sir, I should think you altogether too innocent 
a man to dream!” 

“ The best of us have our failings, general. I do sometimes 
dream, I own, as vvell as the greatest sinner of them all.” 

“ And of what did you dream — the sogdollager?” 

“ 1 dreamt of death.” 

“ Of slipping the cable!” cried the general, looking up suddenly. 
“ Well, what was the drift?” 

“ Why, sir, having no wings, 1 went down below, and soon found 
myself in the presence of the old gentleman himself.” 

“ That was pleasant. Had he a tail? 1 have always been curious 
to know whether he really has a tail or not.” 

“ 1 saw none, sir; but then we stood face to face, like gentlemen, 
and 1 can not describe what I did not see.” 

“ Was he glad to see you, commodore?” 

“ Why, sir, he was civilly spoken, but his occupation prevented 
many compliments.” 

“ Occupation!” 

“ Certainly, sir; he was cutting out shoes, for bis imps to travel 
about ih, in order to stir up mischief,” 


190 


HOME AS FOUND. 


“ And did he set you to work? This is a sort of state prison 
affair, after all!” 

“ No, sir, he was too much of a gentleman to set me at making 
shoes as soon as I arrived. He first inquired what part of the coun- 
try 1 was from, and when I told him, he was curious to know what 
most of the people were about in our neighborhood.” 

” You told him, of course, commodore?” 

‘‘ Certainly, sir, 1 told him their chief occupation was quarreling 
about religion— making saints of themselves, and sinners of their 
neighbors. ‘ Hollo!’ says the devil, calling to one of his imps, ‘ boy, 
run and catch my horse. 1 must be off, and have a finger in that 
pie. What denominations have you in that quarter, commodore?’ 
So 1 told him, general, that we had Baptists, and Quakers, and Uni- 
versalists, and Episcopalians, and Presbyterians, old lights, new lights, 
and blue lights; and Methodists— ‘*Stop,’ said the devil, ‘ that’s 
enough ; you imp, be nimble with that horse. Let me see, commo- 
dore, what part of the country did you say 5 "ou came from?’ I told 
him the name more distinctly this time—” 

” The very spot?” 

‘‘ Town and county.” ♦ 

” And what did the devil say to that?’' 

‘‘ He called out to the imp again — ‘Hollo, you boy, never mind 
that horse. These people will all be here before 1 can get theie.’ ” 

Here the commodore and. the general began to laugh, until the 
arches of the forest rang with their merriment. Three times they 
stopped, and as often did they return to their glee, until, the punch 
being read 3 % each took a fresh draught, in order to ascertain if it 
were fit to be offered to the ladies. 


CHAPTER XX. 

O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? 

Romeo and Juliet. 

The usual effect of punch is to cause people to see double; but, 
on this occasion, the mistake was the other way; for two boats had 
touched the strand, instead of the one announced by the commo- 
dore, and they brought with them the whole party from the Wig- 
wam, Steadfast and Aristabulus included. A domestic or two had 
also been brought to prepare the customary repast. 

Captain Truck was as good as his word, as respects- the punch, 
and the beverage was offered to each of the ladies in form, as soon 
as her feet had touched the green sward which covers that beautiful 
spot. Mrs, Hawd^er declined drinking, in a way to delight the 
gallant seaman; for so completely had she got the better of all his 
habits and prejudices, that ever 3 dhing she did seemed right and 
gracious in his eyes. 

The party soon separated into groups, or pairs, some being seated 
on the margin of the limpid water, enjoying the light cool airs by 
which it was fanned; others lay off in the boats fishing, while the 
remander plunged into the woods, that, in their native wildness, 
bounded the little spot of verdure, which, canopied by old oaks, 
formed the arena so lately in controversy. In this manner an hour 


HOME AS FOUHD. 191 

or two slipped away, when a summons Was given for all to assemble 
around the viands. 

The repast was laid on the grass, notwithstanding Aristabulus 
more tlian hinted that the public, his beloved public, usually saw 
fit to introduce rude tables for that purpose. The Messrs. Effing- 
ham, however, were not to be taught by a mere bird of passage, how 
a rustic ftite so peculiarly their own ought to be conducted, and the 
attendants were directed to spread the dishes on the tuif. Around 
this spot rustic seats were improvi&es, and the business of restaura- 
ation proceeded. Of all there assembled, the Parisian feelings of 
Mademoiselle Viefville were the most excited; for, to her, the scene 
was one of pure delight, with the noble panorama of forest-clad 
mountains, the miiror-like lake, the overshadowing oaks, and the 
tangled brakes of the adjoining woods. 

"'Mats, maiment ceci surpasse les luileries, menw dans leur 
vropre genre!" she exclaimed, with energy. On passeraU volon- 
tiers par les dangers dii desert pour y parxenir" 

Those who understood her smiled at this characteristic remark, 
and most felt disposed to join in the enthusiasm. Blill, the manner 
in which their companions expressed the happiness they felt, appeared 
tame and unsatisfactory to Mr. Bragg and Mr. Dodge, these two per- 
sons being accustomed to see the young of the two sexes indulge in 
broader exhibitions of merry-making than those in which it com- 
ported with the tastes and habits of the present party to indulge, 
in vain Mrs. Hawker, in her quiet, dignified way, enjoyed the read}-- 
wit and masculine thoughls of Mrs. Bloomfield, appearing to renew 
her youth; or Eve, with her sweet simplicity and highly cultivated 
mind and improved tastes, seemed, like a highly polished mirror, to 
throw back the flashes of thought and memory, that so constantly 
gleamed before both; it was all lost on these thoroughly malter-of- 
fact utilitarians.. Mr. Efllngham, all courtesy and mild refinement, 
was seldom happ*ier, and John Effingham was never more pleasant; 
for he had laid aside the severity of his Character, to appear, what 
he ought always to have been, a man in whom intelligence and 
quickness of thought could be made to seem secondary to the gentler 
qualities. The young men were not behind their companions either, 
each in his particular way appearing to advantage, gay, regulated, 
and full of humor that was rendered so much the more agreeable, 
by drawing its images from a knowledge of the world that was tem- 
pered by observation and practice. 

Poor Grace, alone, was the only one of the whole party, always 
excepting Aristabulus and Steadfast, who, for those fleeting but gay 
hours, was not thoroughly happy. For the first time in her life she 
fdt her own deficiencies: that ready and available knowledge so ex- 
quisitely feminine in its nature and exhibition— -which escaped Mrs. 
Bloomfield and Eve as it might be from its own excess, which the 
former possessed almost intuitivel}^ a gift of Heaven, and which the 
latter enjoyed, not only from the same source, but as a just conse- 
quence of her long and steady self-denial, application, and a proper 
appreciation of her duty to herself— was denied one who, in ill-judged 
compliance with the customs of a society that has no other apparent 
aim than the love of display, had precluded herself from enjoyments 
that none but the intellectual can feel. Still Grace was beautiful 


192 


HOME AS FOUND. 


and attractive; and tliougli she wondered where her cousin, in gen- 
eral so simple and unpretending, had acquired all those stores of 
thought, that in the abandon and freedom of such a f 6te escaped her 
in rich profusion, embellished with ready allusions and a brilliant 
though chastened wit, her generous and aftectionate heart could 
permit her to wonder without envying. tShe perceived, for the first 
time on this occasion, that if live were indeed a Hajji, it was not a 
Hajji of a common school; and while her modesty and self-abase- 
meiit led her bitterly to regiet the hours irreti'ievably wasted in the 
frivolous levities so common to those of her sex with whom she had 
been most accustomed to mingle, her sincere regret did not lessen 
her admiration for one she began tenderly to love. 

As for Messrs. Dodge and Bragg, they both determined in their 
own minds that this was much the most stupid entertainment they 
had ever seen on that spot, for it was entirely destitute of loud 
laughing, noisj^ merriment, coarse witticisms, and practical jokes. 
To them it appeared the height of arrogance tor any particular set 
of persons to presume to come to a spot rendered sacred by the pub- 
lic suffrage in its favor, in order to indulge in these outlandish dog- 
in-the mangerisms. 

Toward the close of this gay repast, and when the party were 
about to yield their places to the attendants, who were ready to re- 
ship the utensils, John Ettingham observed — 

“ 1 trust, Mrs. Hawker, you liave been duly warned of the catas- 
Iroplie-chaiacter of this point, on wnich woman is said never to 
have been wooed in vain. Here are Captain Truck and myself, 
ready at any moment to use these carving-knives, faut des Bowies, 
in order to show our desperate devotion; and 1 deem it no more than 
prudent in you, not lo smile again this day, lest the cross-eyed read- 
ings of jealous}^ should impute a wrong motive.” 

“ Had the injunction been'ilgairfst iaughing, sir, 1 might have re- 
sisted, but smiles are far too feeble to express one’s approbation on 
such a day as this; you may therefore trust to my discretion. Is it 
then true, however, that Hymen haunts these shades?” 

” A bachelor’s history of the progress of love may be, like the 
education of his children, distrusted, but so sayeth tradition; and 1 
never put my foot in the place without making fresh vows of con- 
stancy to myself. After this announcement of the danger, dare you 
accept an aim, fori perceive signs thatlifecau not be entirely wasted 
in these pleasures, great as they may prove.” 

The whole party arose, and separating naturally, they strolled in 
groups or pairs again, along the pebbly strand, or beneath the trees, 
while the attendants made the prepaiations to depart. Accident, as 
much as design, left Sir George and Grace alone, for neither per- 
ceived the circumstance until they had both passed a little rise in the 
formation of thegiound, and were be^'ond the view of their com- 
panions. The baronet was the first to perceive how much he had 
been favored by fortune, and his feelings were touched by the air 
of gentle melancholy that shaded the usually bright and brilliant 
countenance of the beautiful girl. 

” 1 should have thrice enjoyed this pleasant day,” he said, with 
an interest in his manner that caused the heart of Grace to beat 
quicker, ” had 1 not seen that to you it has been less productive of 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


193 


satis taction than to most ot those around you. 1 fear you may not 
be as well as usual?” 

“ In health, never better, though not in spirits, perhaps.” 

” I could wish I had a right to inquire why you, who have so few 
causes in general to be out of spirits, should have chosen a moment 
so little in accordance with the common feeling.” 

“ I have chosen no moment; the moment has chosen me, 1 fear. 
Kot until this day, Sir George Templemore, liave 1 ever been truly 
sensible of my great inferiority to my Cousin Eve.” 

“ An inferiority that no one but yourself would observe or men- 
tion.” 

‘‘ No, 1 am neither vain enough nor ignorant enough to be the dupe 
ot this flattery,” returned Grace, shaking her hands and head, while 
she forced a smile; for even the delusions those we love pour into 
our ears are not without their charms. 

” When 1 first met my cousin, after her return, my own imperfec- 
tions rendered me blind to her superiority; but she herself has grad- 
ually taught me to respect her mind, her womanly character, her 
tact, her delicacy, principles, breeding, everything that can make a 
woman estimable, or worthy to be loved! Oh! how have I wasted 
in childish amusements and frivolous vanities the precious moments 
of that girlhood which can never be recalled, and left myself scarce- 
ly woith^^’’ to be an associate of Eve Effingham!” 

The first feelings of Grace had so far gotten the control that she 
scarce knew what she said, or to whom she was speaking; she even 
wrung her hands in the momentary bitterness of her regrets, and in 
a way to arouse all the sympathy of a lover. 

” No one but yourself would say this. Miss Van Cortlandt, and 
least ot all your admirable cousin.” 

‘‘ She is, indeed, my admirable cousin! But what are we in com- 
parison with such a woman! Simple and unaffected as a child, 
with the intelligence of a scholar; with all the graces of a woman, 
she has the learning and mind of a man. Mistress of so many 
languages — ” 

” But you, too, speak several, my dear Miss Van Cortlandt.” 

” Yes,” said Grace, bitterly, ‘‘ 1 speak them, as the parrot repeats 
words that he does not understand. But Eve Effingham has used 
these languages as means, and she does not tell you merely what 
such a phrase or idiom signifies, but what the greatest writers have 
thought and written.” 

‘‘No one has a more profound respect for your cousin than my- 
self, Miss Van Cortlandt, but justice to you requires that 1 should 
say her great superiority over yourself has escaped me.” 

“ This may be true. Sir George Templemore, and for a long time 
it escaped me tod. 1 have only learned to prize her as she ought to 
be prized by an intimate acquaintance; hour by hour, as it might be. 
But even you must have observed how quick and intuitively my 
cousin and Mrs. Bloomfield have understood ea(ffi other to-day; how 
much extensive reading and wdiat polished tastes they have both 
shown, and all so truly feminine! Mrs. Bloomfield is a remarkable 
woman, but she loves these exhibitions, for she knows she excels in 
them. Not so with Eve Effingham, who, while she so thoroughly 
enjoys everything intellectual, is content always to seem so simple, 


194 


HOME AS FOUND. 


Now it happens that the conversation turned once to day on a sub- 
ject that my cousin, no later than yesterday, fully explained to me, at 
my own earnest request; and 1 observed that while she joined so 
naturally with Mrs. Bloomfield in adding to our pleasure, she kept 
back half what she knew, lest she might seem to surpass her friend. 
No— no —no— there is not such another woman as Eve Effingham in 
this world!’' 

“ So keen a perception of excellence in others denotes an equal ex- 
cellence in yourself.” 

“ 1 know my own great inferiority now, and no kindness of yours. 
Sir George Templemore, can ever persuade me into a better opinion 
of myself. Eve has traveled, seen much in Europe that does not 
exist here, and instead of passing her youth in girlish trifling, has 
treated the minutes as if they were all precious, as she well knew 
them to be.” 

“ If Europe, then, does indeed possess these advantages, why not 
yourselt visit it, dearest Miss Van Oortlandt?” 

” 1—1 a Hajji!” cried Grace, with childish pleasure, though her 
color heigntened, and tor a moment Eve and her superiority were 
forgotten. 

Certainly Sir George Templemore did not come out on the lake that^ 
day with an expectation of ofiering his baronetcy, his fair estate, with 
his hand, to this artless, half-educated, provincial, but beautiful 
girl. For a long lime he had been debating with himself the pro- 
priety of such a step, and it is probable that at some later period he 
would have sought an occasion, had not one now so opportunely 
offered, notwithstanding all his doubts and reasonings with himself. 
If the “ woman who hesitates is lost,” it is equally true that the man 
who pretends to set up his reason alone against beauty, is certain to 
find that sense is less powerful than the senses. Had Grace Yan 
Cortlandt been more sophisticated, less natural, her beauty might 
have failed to make this conquest, but the baronet found a charm in 
her naivete that was singularly winning to the feelings of a man of 
the world. Eve had first attracted him by the same quality; the 
early education of American females being less constrained and arti- 
ficial than that of the English; but in Eve he found a mental train- 
ing, and acquisitions that left the quality less conspicuous, perhaps, 
than in her scarcely less beautiful cousin; though, had Eve met his 
admiration with anything like sympathy, her power over him would 
not have been easily weakened. As it was, Grace had been gradually 
winding herself around his affections, and he now poured out his 
love in a language that her unpracticed and already favorably dis- 
posed feelings had no means of withstanding. A very few minutes 
were allowed to them before the summons to the boat; but when this 
summons came, Grace rejoined the party, elevated in her own good 
opinion, as happy as a cloudless future could make her. and with- 
out another thougiit of the immeasurable superiority of her cousin. 

By a singular coincidence, while the baronet and Grace were thus 
engaged on one part of the shore. Eve was the subject of a similar 
proffer of connecting herself for life on another. She had left the 
circle, attended by Paul, her father, and Aristabulus; but no sooner 
had they reached the margin of the water than the two former were 
called away by Captain Truck, to settle some controverted point be- 


HOME AS FOUHI). 195 

tween the latter and the commodore. By this unlooked -for desertion, 
Eve found heisetf alone with Mr. Bragg. 

“ That was a funny and comprehensive remark Mr. John made 
about the ‘ Point,’ Miss Eve,” Aristabul us commenced, assoon as he 
found himself in possession of the ground. ” 1 should like to know 
if it be really true that no woman tvas ever unsuccessfully wooed 
beneath these oaks? If such be the case, we gentlemen ought to be 
cautious how we come here. ’ ’ 

Here Aristabulus simpered, and looked, if possible, more amiable 
than ever; though the quiet composure and womanly dignity of 
Eve, who respected herself too much, and too well knew wliat was 
due to her sex, ever to enter into, or, so far as it depended on her 
will, to permit any of that commonplace and vulgar trifling about 
love and matrimony which formed a never-failing theme bctwedi 
the youthful of the two sexes in Mr. Bragg’s particular circle, sensi- 
bly curbed his ambitious hopes. Still, he thought he had made too 
good an opening not lo pursue the subject. 

” Mr. John Effingham sometimes indulges in pleasantries,” Eve 
answered, ” that would lead one astray who might attempt to follow. ” 

“ Love is a jack-o’-Jantern,” rejoined Aristabulus, sentimentally. 

” That I admit; and it is no wonder so many get swamped in fol- 
lowing his lights. Have )mu ever felt the lender passion, Miss Eve?” 

Now Aristabulus had heard this question put at the soiree ot Mrs. 
Houston more than once, and he believed himself lo be in the most 
polite road for a regular declaration. An ordinary woman, who 
felt herself offended by this question, would most probably have 
stepped back, and raising her form to its utmost elevation, ansAvered 
by an emphatic ” Sir!” Not so with Eve. She felt the distance 
between Mr. Bragg and herself to be so great, that by no probable 
means could he even ofiendherby any assumption of equality. This 
distance was the result of opinions, habits, and education, rather 
than ot condition, however; for though Eve Effingham could become 
the wife of a gentleman only, she was entirely si^erior to those 
prejudices of the world that depend on purely factitious causes. In 
stead of discovering surprise, indignation, or dramatic dignity, there- 
fore, at this extraordinary question, she barely permitted a smile to 
curl her handsome mouth, and this so slightly as to escape her com- 
panion’s eye. 

‘‘ 1 believe we are to be favored with as smooth water in return- 
ing to the village as we had in the morning, while coming to this 
place,” she simply said. ” You row, sometimes, 1 think, Mr. 
Bragg?” 

‘‘Ah! Miss Eve, such another opportunity may never occur 
again, for you foieign ladies are so difficult ot access! Let me then 
seize this liappy moment here, beneath the hymeneal oaks, to offer 
3’ou this faithful hand and this willing heart. Ot fortune you will 
have enough for both, and I say nothing about the miserable dross. 
Reflect, Miss Eve, how happy we might be, protecting and soothing 
the old age of your father, and in going down the hill of life in 
company; or, as the song says, ‘ And hand in hand we’ll go, and 
sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson, my Joe.’ ” 

“You draw very agreeable pictures, Mr. Bragg, and with the . 
touches of a master!” 


196 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


“ However agreeable you find them, Miss Eve, they tall iniinitely 
short ot the truth. The tie of wedlock, besides being the mos't 
sacred, is also the dearest; and happy, indeed, are they w^ho enter 
into the solemn engagement with such cheerful prospects as our- 
selves. Our ages are perfectly suitable, our dispositions entirely 
consonant, our habits so similai as to obviate all unpleasant changes, 
and our fortunes precisely what they ought to be to render a mar- 
riage happy, with confidence on one side, and gratitude on the other. 
As to the day. Miss Eve, 1 could wish to leave you altogether the 
mistress of that, and shall not be urgent.” 

Eve had often heard John Etfingham comment on the cool im- 
pudence of a particular portion of the American population, with 
great amusement to herself; but never did she expect to be the sub- 
ject of an attack like this in her own person. By way of rendering 
the scene perfect, Aristabulus had taken out his penknife, cut a twig 
from a bush, and he now rendered himself doubly interesting by 
commencing the favorite occupation of whittling. A cooler picture 
of passion could not well have been drawn. 

‘‘ You are bashfully silent. Miss Eve! 1 make all due allowance 
for natural timidity, and shall say no more at present — though, as 
silence universally ‘ gives consent — ’ ” 

“ If you please, sir,” interrupted Eve, with a slight motion of her 
parasol,, that implied a check. ” 1 presume our habits and opinions, 
notwithstanding you seem to think them so consonant with each 
other, are sutliciently different to cause you not to see the impro- 
priet}^ of one, wdio is situated like yourself, abusing the confidence 
of a parent, by making such a proposal to a daughter without her 
father’s knowledge; and, on that point, I shall say nothing. But 
as you have done me the honor of making me a very unequivocal 
offer of your hand, 1 wish that the answer may be as distinct as the 
proposal. 1 decline the advantage and happiness ot becoming your 
wife, sir—” 

‘‘ Time flics. Miss Eve!” 

” Time does fly, Mr. Bragg, and, if you remain much longer m 
the employment of Mr. Etfingham, you may lose an opportunity ot 
advancing your fortunes at "the West, whither 1 understand it has 
long been your intention to emigrate—” 

“1 will readily relinquish all my hopes at the West for your 
sake.” 

” No, sir, I can not be a party to such a sacrifice. 1 will not say, 
forget me, but forget your hopes here, and renew those you have so 
unreflectingly abandoned beyond the Mississippi. 1 shall not repre- 
sent this conversation to Mr. Effingham in a manner to create any 
unnecessary prejudices against you; and while 1 thank you— as 
every woman should — for an offer that must infei some portion, at 
least, of your good opinion, you will permit me again to wish you 
all lawful success in your Western enterprises.” 

Eve gave Mr. Bragg no further opportunity to renew his suit; for 
she courtesied and left him, as she ceased speaking. Mr. Dodge, who 
had been a distant observer of the interview, now hastened to join 
his friend, curious to know the result; for it had been privately 
arranged between these modest youths, that each should try his fort 
une in turn with the heiress, did she not accept the first proposal. 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


197 

To the chagrin of Steadfast, and probably to the reader’s surprise, 
Aristabulus informed his friend that Eve’s manner and language had 
been full of encouragement. 

“ She thanked me for the offer, Mr. Dodge,” he said, ” and her 
wishes for my future prosperity at the West were warm and re- 
peated. Eve Effingham is, indeed, a charming creature!” 

‘‘ At the West! Perhaps she meant differently frcan what you im- 
agine. 1 know her well. The girl is full of art.” 

” Art, sir! she spoke as plainly as woman could speak, and 1 re- 
peat that 1 feel considerably encouraged. It is something to have 
had so plain a conversation wilh Eve Effingham.” 

Mr. Dodge swallowed his discontent, and the whole party soon 
embarked, to return to the village, the commodore and general tak- 
ing a boat by themselves, in order to bring their discussions on hu- 
man affairs in general, to a suitable close. 

That night Sir George Templemore asked an interview with Mr. 
Effingham, when the latter was alone in his library. 

” 1 sincerely hope this request is not the forerunner of a depart- 
ure,” said the host kindly, as the young man entered, ” in which 
case 1 shall regard you as one unmindful of the hopes he has raised. 
You stand pledged by implication, if not in words, to pass another 
month with us.” 

‘‘ So far from entertaining an intention so faithless, my dear sir, 
1 am fearful that you may think 1 trespass too far on your hospi- 
tality.” 

He then communicated his wish to be allowed to make Grace van 
Cortiandt his wife. Mr. Effingham heard him with a smile, that 
showed he was not altogether unprepared for such a demand, and 
his eye glistened as he squeezed the other’s hand. 

” Take her with all my heart. Sir George,” he said, ” but remem- 
ber, you are transferring a tender plant into a strange soil. There 
are not many of your countrymen to whom 1 would confide such a 
trust; for I know the risk they run who make ill-assorted unions — ” 

” Ill-assorted unions, Mr. Effingham!” 

” Yours wlil not be one, in the ordinary acceptation of the term, 
1 know; for in years, birth, and fortune you and my dear niece are 
as much on an equality as can be desired; but it is too often an ill- 
assorted union for an American woman to become an English wife. 
So much depends on the man, that with one in whom 1 have less 
confidence than 1 have in you, I might justly hesitate. 1 shall take 
a guardian’s privilege, though Grace be her own mistress, ana give 
you one solemn piece of advice. Always respect the country of the 
woman you have thougiit worthj'- to bear your name.” 

” 1 hope always to respect everything that is hers; but why this 
particular caution? Miss Van Cortiandt is almost English in her 
heart.” 

” An affectionate wife will take her bias in such matters generally 
from her husband. Your country will be her country — your God 
her God. Still, Sir George Templemore, a woman of spirit and sen- 
timent can never wholly forget the land of her birth. You love us 
not in England, and one who settles there will often have occasion 
to hear gibes and sneers of the land from which she came—” 


198 


HOME AS FOUMD. 


“ Good God, Mr. EflBngliam, you do not think 1 shall lake my 
wife into society where—” 

” Bear with a proser’s doubts, Templemore. You will do all that 
is well-intentioned and proper, I dare say, in the usual acceptation 
of the words; but 1 wish you to do more; that which is wise. Grac.e 
has now a sincere reverence and respect for England, feelings that 
in many particulars are sustained by the facts, and will be perma- 
nent; but, in some things, observation, as it usually happens witii 
the young and sanguine, will expose the mistakes into which she 
has been led by enthusiasm and the imagination. As she knows 
other countries better, she will come to regard her own with more 
favorable and discriminating eyes, losing her sensitiveness on ac- 
count of peculiarities she now esteems, and taking new views of 
things. Perhaps you will think me selfish, but 1 shall add, also, 
that if you wish to cure your wile of any homesickness, the surest 
mode will be to bring her back to her native land.” 

‘‘Nay, my dear sir,” said Sir George, laughing, “this is very 
much like acknowledging its blemishes.” 

“ 1 am aware it has that appearance, and yet the fact is otherwise. 
The cure is as certain with the Englishman as with the American; 
and with the German as with either. It depends on a general law, 
which causes us all to overestimate bygone pleasures and distant 
scenes, and to undervalue those of the present moment. You know 
I have always maintained there is no real philosopher short of filty, 
nor any taste worth possessing that is a dozen years old.” 

Here Mr. Effingham rang the bell, and desired Pierre to request 
Miss Van Cortlandt to join him in the library. Grace entered blush- 
ing and shy, but wdth a countenance beaming with inward peace. 
Her uncle regarded her a moment intently, and a tear glistened in 
his eye again, as he tenderly kissed her burning cheek. 

“ God bless you, love,” he said — “ ’tis a fearful change for your 
sex, and yet you all enter into it radiant with hope, and noble in 
your confidence. Take her, Templemore,” giving her hand to the 
baronet, “ and deal kindly hy her. You will not desert us entirely. 
] trust 1 shall see you both once more in the Wigw^am before 1 die.” 

“ Uncle — uncle — ” burst from Grace, as, drowned in tears, she 
threw herself into Mr, Effingham’s arms; “ I am an ungrateful girl 
thus to abandon all my natural friends. 1 have acted wrong — ” 

“ Wrong, dearest IMiss Van Cortlandt!” 

“ Selfishly, then. Sir George Templemore,” the simple-hearted 
girl ingenuously added, scarcely knowing how much her words im- 
plied — “ Perhaps this matter might be reconsidered.” 

“lam afraid little would be gained by that, my love,” returned 
the smiling uncle, wiping his eyes at the same instant. “ The 
second thoughts of ladies usually confirm the first in such matters. 
God bless you, Grace; Templemore, may Heaven have you, too, in 
its holy keeping. Remember what 1 have said, and to-morrow we 
will converse further on the subject. Hoes Eve know of tbis, my 
niece?” 

The color went and came rapidly in Grace’s cheek, and she looked 
to the floor, abashed. 

“ We ought, then, to send for her,” resumed Mr. Effingham, again 
reaching toward the bell, 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


199 


“Uncle — ” and Grace hurriedly interposed, in lime to save the 
string trom being pulled. “ Could 1 keep such an important secret 
from my dearest cousin?” 

“ 1 find that 1 am the last in the secret, as is generally the case 
with old fellows, and 1 believe 1 am even now de trap.'" 

Mr. EflGngham kissed Grace again afiectionately, and although she 
strenuously endeavored to detain him, he left the room. 

“ We must follow,” said Grace, hastily wiping her eyes, and rub- 
hiug the traces of tears from her cheeks— “ Excuse me. Sir George 
Templemore; will you open — ” 

He did, though it was not the door, but his arms. Grace seemed 
like one that was rendered giddy by standing on a precipice, but 
when she fell the young baronet was at hand to receive her. Instead 
of quitting the liiirary lhat instant, the bell had announced the ap- 
pearance of the supper-tray before she lemerabered that she had so 
earnestly intended to do so. 


CHAPTER XXI. 

This clay no man thinks 
He has business at his house. 

King Henry VIU. 

The warm weather, which was always a little behind that of the 
lower counties, had now set in among the mountains, and the season 
had advanced into the firstweek in July. “ Independence Day,” as 
the fourth of that month is termed by the Americans, arrived; and 
the wits of Templeton were taxed as usual, in order that the festival 
might be celebrated with the customary intellectual and moral treat. 
The morning commenced with a parade of the two or three uni- 
formed companies of the vicinity, much gingerbread and spruce beer 
were consumed in the streets, no light potations ot whisky were 
swallowed in the groceries, and a great variety of drinks, some of 
which bore very ambitious names, shared the same fate in the 
taverns. 

Mademoisehe. Vietville had been told that , this was the great 
American fgte; the festival ot the nation; and she appeared that 
morning in gay ribbons, and with her bright animated face covered 
with smiles for the occasion. To her surprise, however, no one 
seemed to respond to her feelings; and as the party rose from the 
breakfast-table, she took an opportunity to ask an explanation ot 
Eve, in a little “ aside.” 

*' Est-ce que je me suis trompee, ma cheref” demanded the lively 
Frenchwoman. “ Is not this — la celebratwi votre independence?” 

“You are not mistaken, my dear Mademoiselle Viefville, and 
great preparations are made to do it honor. I understand there are 
to be a militaiy parade, an oration, a dinner, and fireworks.” 

‘ ‘ Monsieur wire pere — ’ ’ 

“ Monsieur mon pere is not much given to rejoicings, and he takes 
this annual joy much as a valetudinarian takes his morning 
draught.” 

“ Et Monsieur Jean Effingham—?” 


200 HOME AS FOUHD. 

“Is always a philosopher; you are to expect no antics frorii 
him.” 

“ Mats ces jeunes gens, Monsieur Bragg, Monsieur Dodge, et Mon- 
sieur Powis meme — ” 

“ Se rejouissent en A'lnericains. 1 presume you are aware that 
Mr. Powis has declared himselt to be an American?” 

Mademoiselle Vietville looked toward the streets, along wnich 
divers tall, somber-looking countrymen, with faces more lugubrious 
than those of the mutes of a funeral, were sauntering with a des- 
perate ail of enjoyment; and she shrugged her shoulders, as she 
muttered to herself, “ Que ces Americains sont droles P' 

At a later hour, however. Eve surprised her father, and indeed 
most of the Americans of the party, by proposing that the ladies 
should w^alk out into the street, and witness the f§te. 

“ My child, this is a strange proposition to come from a young 
lady oi tw'enty,” said her father. 

“ Why strange, dear sir? We alw^'ays mingled in the village f^tes 
in Europe.” 

“ Certainement,'’ cried the delighted Mademoiselle Viefville; 
‘ ‘ c'est de rigueur meme. ’ ’ 

“ And it is rigueur here, mademoiselle, for young ladies to 
keep out of them,” put in John Effingham. “ 1 should be very 
sorry to see either of you three ladies in the streets of Templeton 
today.” 

“ Why so, Cousin Jack? Have we anything to fear from the 
rudeness of our countrymen? 1 have always understood, on the 
contrary, that in no other part of the world is woman so uniformly 
treated with respect and kindness, as in this very republic of ours; 
and yet, by all these ominous faces, 1 perceive that it will not do for 
her to trust herself in the streets of a village on B.Jesta.” 

“ You are not altogether wrong In what you now say, Miss 
Effingham, nor are you wholly light. Woman, as a whole, is w^ell 
treated in America; and yet it will not do lor a lady to mingle in 
scenes like these, as ladies may and do mingle with them in 
Europe. ’ ' 

“ 1 have heard this difference accounted for,” said Paul Powis, 
“ by the fact that w^omen have no legal rank in this country. In 
those nations where the station of a lad}" is protected by legal ordi- 
nances, it is said she may descend with impunity; but in this, where 
all are equal before the law*, so many misunderstand the real merits 
of their position, that she is obliged to keep aloof from any collisions 
with those who might be disposed to mistake their own claims.” 

“ But 1 wish for no collisions, no associations, Mr. Powis, but 
simply to pass through the streets, with my cousin and Mademoi- 
selle Yiefville, to enjoy the sight of the rustic sports, as one would 
do in Prance, or Italy, or even in republican Switzerland, it you 
insist on a republican example.” 

“Rustic sports!” repeated Aristabulus, with a frightened look; 
“ the people wdll not bear to hear their sports called rustic, Miss 
Effingham.” 

“ Surely, sir ” — Eve never spoke to Mr. Bragg, now, without 
using a repelling politeness—” surely, sir, the people of these 


HOME AS EOUND. 


201 


mounlains will hardly 
tal.” 


pretend that their sports are those of a capi- 


“ 1 merely mean, ma’am, that the term would be monstrously un- 
popular; nor do I see why the sports in a city ” — Aristabulus was 
much too peculiar in his notions to call any place that had a mayor 
and aldermen a town — “ should not be just as rustic as those of a 
villa.^e. The contrary supposition violates the principle of equal- 
ity.” 

‘'And do you decide against us, dear sir?” Eve added, looking 
at Mr. Effingham. 

” Without stopping to examine causes, my child, 1 shall say that 
1 think you had better all remain at home.” 

” Voild, Mademoiselle Viej'inlle, une fete Americaine !'' ■ i 

A shrug of the shoulders was the significant reply. 

” Nay, my daiiirhter, you are not entirely excluded from the 
festivities; all gallantry has not quite deserted the land.” 

” A young lady shall walk alone with a young gentleman— shall 
ride alone with him— shall drive out alone with him— shall not move 
without him, dans le monde, mais, she shall not walk in the crowd, 
to look at line fete a'eeesoii phe!"' exclaimed Mademoiselle Viefville, 
in her imperfect English. ‘‘Jd desesph'-e 'craiment, to understand 
some habitudes Amm'icaines !" 

“ Well, mademoiselle, that you may not think us altogether bar- 
baiians, you shall, at least, have the benefit of the oration.” 

“ l^ou may well call it the oration, Ned; for 1 believe one, or 
certainly one skeleton, has served some thousand orators annually, 
any time these sixty years.” 

“ Of this skeleton, then, the ladies shall have the benefit. The 
procession is about to form, I hear; and by getting ready imme- 
diately, we shall be just in time to obtain good seats.” 

Mademoiselle Viefville was delighted; for, after trying the the- 
aters, the churches, sundry balls, the opera, and all the admirable 
gayeties of New Vork, she had reluctantly come to the conclusion 
that America was a very good country pour s’ennuyer, and for very 
little else; but here was the promise of a novelty. I'he ladies com- 
pleied their preparations, and, accordingly, attended by all the 
gentlemen, made their appearance in the assembly at the appointed 
hour. 

Ihe orator, who, as usual, was a lawyer, was already in posses- 
sion of the pulpit, for one of the village churches had been selected 
as the scene of the ceremonies. He was a young man who had 
recently been called to the bar, it being as much in rule for the 
legal tyro to take off the wire-edge of his wit in a Fourth of July 
oration, as it was formerly for a iriousquetaire to prove his spirit in 
a duel. The academy, which formerly was a servant of all work to 
the public, being equally used for education, balls, preaching, town- 
meetings, and caucuses, had shared the fate of most American 
edifices in wood, having lived its hour and been burned; ana the 
collection of people, whom we have formerly had occasion to de- 
scribe, appeared to have also vanished from the earth, for nothing 
could be less alike in exterior, at least, than those who had assem 
bled under the ministry of Mr. Grant, and their successors, who 
were now collected to "listen to the wisdom of Mr. Writ. Such a 


202 


HOME AS FOUHH. 


thing as a coat of two generations was no longer to be seen; the 
latest fashion, or what was thought to be the latest fashion, being 
as rigidly respected by the young farmer or the young mechanic, as 
by the more admitted bucks, the law-student and the village shop- 
boy. All the red cloaks had long since been laid aside to give place 
to imitation merino shawls, or, in cases of unusual moderation and 
sobriety, to mantles of silk. As Eve glanced her eye around her 
she perceived Tuscan hnts, bonnets of gay colors and flowers, and 
dresses ot French chintzes, where fifty years ago would have been 
seen even men’s woolen hats and liomely English calicoes. It is 
true that the change among the men was not quite as striking, for 
their attire admits of less variety; but the black stock had super- 
seded the check handkerchief and the bandana; gloves had taken 
the place of mittens; and the coarse and clownish shoe of “cow- 
hide ’’ was supplanted by the calf-skin boot. 

“ Where are your peasants, your rustics, your milk and dairy 
maids— the people, in short” — whispered Sir George Templemore 
to Mrs. Bloomfield, as they took their seats; “ or is this occasion 
thought to be too intellectual for them, and the present assembly 
composed only of the elite?'' 

“ These are the people, and a pretty fair sample, too, of their 
appearance and deportment. Most of these men are what you in 
England would call operatives, and the women are their wives, 
daughters, and sisters.” 

The baronet said nothing at the moment, but he sat looking 
around him with a curious eye for some lime, when he again ad- 
dressed his companion: 

“1 see the truth of what you say, as regards the men, for a 
critical eye can discover the proofs of their occupations; bat surely 
you must be mistaken as respects your own sex; there is too much 
delicacy ot form and feature for the class you mean.” 

“ Nevertheless, 1 have said naught but truth.” 

“ But look at the hands and feet, dear Mrs. Bloomfield. Those 
are French gloves, too, or I am mistaken.” 

“ 1 will not positively affirm that the French gloves actually be- 
long to the dairy-maids, though, 1 have known even this prodigy; 
but, rely on it, you see here the proper female counterparts of the 
men, and singularly delicate and pretty females are they, for per- 
sons ot their class. This is what you call democratic coarseness 
and vulgarity. Miss Effingham tells me, in England.” 

Sir George smiled, but, as what it is the fashion of the country to 
call “ the exercises ” just then began, he made no other answer. 

Tne exercises commenced with instrumental music, certainly the 
weakest side ot American civilization. That ot the occasion ot 
which we write, had three essential faults, all ot which are saffi- 
ciently general to be termed characteristic in a national point of 
view. In the first place, the instruments themselves were bad; in 
the next place, they were assorted without any regard to harmony; 
and in the last place their owners did not know how to use them. 
As in certain American cities— the word is well applied here— she is 
esteemed the greatest belle w’ho can contrive to utter her nursery 
sentiments in the loudest voice, so in Templeton was he considered 
the ablest musician who could giv^e the greatest klat to a false note. 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


203 


In a word, clamor was the one thing needful, and as regards time, 
that great regulator of all harmonies, Paul Powis whispered to the 
captain that the air they had just been listening to resembled what 
the sailors called a “ round-robin,” or a particular mode of singing 
complaints practiced by seamen, in which the nicest observer can not 
tell which is the beginning or which the end. 

It required all the Parisian breeding of Mademoiselle Viefville to 
preserve her* gravity during this overture, though she kept her 
bright, animated, Frencti-looking eyes roaming over the assembly, 
with au air of delight that, as M'r. Bragg would say, made her very 
popular. -Ko one else iu the party h'om the Wigwam, Captain 
Truck excepted, dared look up, but each kept his or her eyes 
riveted on the floor, as if in silent enjoyment of the harmonies. As 
for the honest old seaman, there was as much melody in the howling 
of a gale to his unsophisticated ears as in anything else, and he 
saw no difference between this teat of the Templeton band and the 
sighing of old Boreas; and, to say the truth, our nautical critic was 
not much out of the way. 

Of the oration it is scarcely necessary to say much, for if human 
nature is the same in all ages, and under all circumstances, so is a 
Fourth of Ouly oration. There were the usual allusions to Greece 
and Rome, between the republics of which and that of this country 
there exists some such affinity as is to be found between a horse- 
chestnut and a chesnut horse, or that of mere words; and a long- 
catalogue of national glories that might very wmll have sufficed for 
all the republics, both of antiquity and of our own time. But when 
the orator came to speak of the American character, and particu- 
larly of the intelligence of the nation, he was most felicitous, and 
made the largest investments in popularity. According to his ac- 
count of the matter, no other people possessed a tithe of the knowl- 
edge, or a hundredth part of the honesty and virtue of the very com- 
munity he was addressing; and after laboring for ten minutes to 
convince his hearers that they already knew everything, he wasted 
several more in trying to persuade them to undertake further ac- 
quisitions of the same nature. 

” How much better all this might be made,” said Paul Powis, as 
the party returned toward the Wigwam when the “exercises” 
were ended, “ by substituting a little plain instruction on the real 
nature and obligations of the institutions, for so much unmeaning 
rhapsody. Nothing has struck me with more surprise and pain than 
to find how far, or it might be better to say how high, ignorance 
reaches on such subjects, and how few men, in a country where all 
depends on the institutions, have clear notions concerning their own 
conditions.” 

“ Certainly this is not the opinion we usually entertain of our- 
selves,” observed John Effingham. “And yet it ought to be, 1 
am far from underrating the ordinary information of the country, 
which, as an average information, is superior to that of almost every 
other people; nor am 1 one of those who, according to the popular 
European notion, fancy the Americans less gifted than common iu 
intellect; there can be but one truth in anything, however, and it 
falls to the lot of very few, anywhere, to master it. The Ameri- 
cans, moreover, are a people of facts and practices, paying but little 


204 


HOME AS rOUKH. 


attention to priuciples, and giving themselves the very minimum of 
time for investigations that lie be 3 'ond the reach of the common 
mind; and it follows that they know little of that which does not 
present itself in their every-day transactions. As regards the prac- 
tice of the institutions, it 'is regulated here, as elsewhere, by party, 
and party is never an honest or a disinterested expounder.” 

“ Are you then more than in the common dilemma,” asked Sir 
George, ” or worse off than your neighbors?” 

“We are worse off than our neighbors, for the simple reason that 
it is the intention of the American system, which has been delib- 
erately framed, and which is, moreover, the reside of a bargain, to 
carry out its theory in practice; whereas in countries where the in- 
stitutions are the results of time and accidents, improvement is only 
obtained by innovations. Party invariably assails and weakens 
power. When power is in the possession of a few, the many gain 
by party; but when power is the legal right of the many, the few 
gain by party. Now as paily has no ally as strong as ignorance 
and prejudice, a right understanding of the principles of a govern- 
ment is of far more importance in a popular government than in 
any other. In place of the eternal eulogies on facts that one hears 
on all public occasions in this country, 1 would substitute some 
plain and clear expositions of principles; or, indeed, 1 might say, of 
facts as they are connected with principles.”. 

Mais, la musique, monsieur,’' interrupted Mademoiselle Vief- 
ville, in a way so droll as to raise a general smile, '' qu’en pensez- 
musf” 

“ That it is music, my dear mademoiselle, in neither fact nor 
principle.” 

“It only proves that a people can be free, mademoiselle,” ob- 
served Mrs. Bloomfield, “ and enjoy Fourth of July orations, with- 
out having very correct notions of harmony or time. But do our 
rejoicings end here. Miss Effingham?” 

“ Not at all — there is still something in reserve for the day, and 
all who honor it. 1 am told the evening, which promises to be 
sufficiently somber, is to terminate with a fUe that is peculiar to 
Templeton, and which is called ‘ The Fun of Fire.’ ” 

“ It is an ominous name, nnd ought to be a brilliant ceremony.” 

As this was uttered, the whole party entered the Wigwam. 

“ The Fun of Fire ” took place, as a matter of course, at a late 
hour. When night had set in, everybody appeared in the main 
street of the village, a part of which, from its width and form, was 
particularly adapted to the sports of the evening. The females were 
mostly at the windows, or on such elevated stands as favored their 
view, and the party from the Wigwam occupied a large balcony 
that topped the piazza of one of the principal inns of the place. 

The sports of the night commenced with rockets, of which a 
few, that did as much credit to the climate as to the state of the 
pyrotechnics of the village, were thrown up, as soon as the dark- 
ness had become sufficiently dense to lend them brilliancy. Then 
followed wheels, crackers, and serpents, all of the most primitive 
kind, if, indeed, there be anything primitive in such amusement. 

The “ Fun of Fire ” was to close the rejoicings, and it was cer- 


HOME AS EOLAXD. 205 

tainly worth all the sports of that day united, the gingerbread and 
spruce beer included. 

A blazing ball cast from a shop-floor was tne signal for the com- 
mencement of the Fun. It was meiely a ball of rope-yarn, or of 
some other material saturated with turpentine, and it burned with a 
bright, fierce flame until consumed. As the first of these fiery 
meteors sailed into the street, a common shout from the boys, ap- 
prentices. and young men, proclaimed that the fun was at hand. 
It was followed by several more, and in a few minutes the entire 
area was gleaming with glancing light. The whole of the amuse- 
ment consisted in tossing the fire-balls with boldness, and in avoid- 
ing them with dexterity, something like competition soon entering 
into the business of the scene. 

The effect was singularly beautiful. Groups of dark objects be- 
came suddenly illuminated, and here a portion of the throng might 
be seen beneath a brightness like that produced by a honfire, while 
all the background of persons and faces was gliding about in a 
darkness that almost swallowed up a human figure. Suddenly all 
this would be changed; the brightness would pass away, aud a ball 
alighting in a spot that had seemed abandoned to gloom, it would 
be found peopled with merry countenances aud active forms. The 
constant changes from brightness to deep darkness, with all the 
varying gleams of light and shadow, made the beauty of the scene, 
which soon extorted admiration from all in the balcony. 

“ Mats c’est chairmani I” exclaimed Mademoiselle Viefville, who 
was enchanted at discovering something like gayety and pleasure 
among the “ tristes Amencains/’ and who had never even suspected 
them of being capable of so much apparent enjoyment. 

“These are the prettiest village sports 1 have ever witnessed,” 
said Eve, “ though a little dangerous, one would think. There is 
something refreshing, as the magazine writers term it, to find one 
of these minature towns of ours condescending to be gay and 
happy in a village fashion. If 1 were to bring my strongest objec- 
tion to American country life, it would be its ambitious desire to 
ape the towns, converting the case and abandon of a village into the 
formality and stiffness that render children in the clothes of grown 
people so absurd!}'' ludicrous.” 

“ What!” exclaimed John Effingham; “ do you fancy it possible 
to reduce a freeman so low, as to deprive him of his stilts! INo, no, 
young lady; you are now in a country where, if you have two rows 
of flounces on your frock, your maid will make it a point to have 
three, by way of maintaining the equilibrium. This is the noble 
ambition of liberty.” 

“ Annette’s foible is a love of flounces. Cousin Jack, and you 
have drawn that image from your eye instead of your imagination. 
It is a French as well as an American ambition, if ambition it be.” 

“ Let it be drawn whence it may, it is true. Have you not re- 
marked, Sir (George Templenioie, tliat the Americans will not even 
bear the ascendency of a capital? Formerly, Philadelphia, then the 
largest town in the country, was the political capital; but it was too 
much for any one community to enjoy the united consideration 
that belongs to extent and politics; and so the honest public went to 
work to make a capital that should have nothing else in its favor 


20G 


HOME AS EOUK13. 


but Ibe naked fact that it was tbe seat of goveroment, and 1 think it 
will be generally allowed that they have succeeded to admiration. 
I fancy Mr. Dodge will admit that it would be quite intolerable 
that country should not be town, and town country.’ 

“ This is a land of equal rights, Mr. John Effingham, and I con- 
fess that 1 see no claim that New York possesses, which does not 
equally belong to Templeton.” 

” Do you hold, sir,” inquired Captain Truck, “ that a ship is a 
brig, and a brig a ship?” 

” Tbe case is different; Templeton is a town, is it not, iVfr. John 
Effingham?” 

” A town, Mr. Dodge, but not town. The difference is essential.’ 

”1 do not see it, sh. Now, New York, to my notion, is not a 
town, but a city.” 

” Ah! This is the critical acumen of the editor! But you should 
be indulgent, Mr. Dodge, to us laymen, who pick up onr phrases by 
merely wandering about the world, or in the nursery perhaps; while 
you, of the favored tew, by living in tbe condensation of a province, 
obtain a precision and accuracy to wbich we can lay no claim.” 

Tbe darkness prevented the editor of tbe ” Active Inquirer ” from 
detecting tbe general smile, and be remained in happy ignorance of 
the feeling that produced it. To say the truth, not the smallest of 
the besetting vices of Mr. Dodge had their foundation in a provin- 
cial education and in provincial notions; the invariable tendency of 
both being to persuade their subject that he is always right, while 
all opposed to him in opinion are wrong. That well-known line 
of Pope, in which the poet asks, ” What can we reason but from 
wdiat we know?” contains the principles of half our foibles and 
faults, and perhaps explains fully that proportion of those of ]\lr. 
Dodge, to say nothing of those of no small number of bis coun- 
trymen. There are limits to the knowledge, and tastes, and habits 
of every man, and, as each is regulated by the opportunities of the 
individual, it follows of necessity that no one can have a standard 
mucii above his own experience. That an isolated and remote peo- 
ple should be a provincial people, or, in other words, a people of 
narrow and peculiar practices and opinions, is as unavoidable as 
that study should make a scholar; though in the case of America, 
tbe great motive for surprise is to be found 'in tbe fact that causes 
so very obvious should produce so little effect. When compared 
with the bulk of other nations, the Americans, (hough so remote 
and insulated, are scarcely provincial, tor it is only Mdien the high- 
est standard of this nation is compared with the highest standard of 
other nations, that we detect tbe great deficiency that actually exists. 
That a moral foundation so broad should uphold a moral super- 
structure so narrow, is owing to tbe circumstance that (be popular 
sentiment rules, and as everything is referred to a body of judges 
that, in the nature of things, must be of very limited and superficial 
attamraents, it can not be a matter of wonder to the refiecting, that 
the decision shares in the qualities of the tribunal. In America tbe 
gross mistake has been made of supposing, that, because tbe mass 
rules in a political sense, it has a right to be listened to and obeyed 
in all other matters — a practical deduction that can only lead, under 
the most favorable exercise of power, to a very humble mediocrity. 


HOME AS POUND. 


207 

It is to be hoped that time and a greater concentration of taste, lib- 
erality, and knowledge than can well distinguish a young and scat- 
tered population, will repair this evil, and that our children will 
reap the harvest of the broad fields of intelligence that have been 
sown by ourselves. In the meantime, the present generation must 
endure that which cannot easily be cured; and among its other evils, 
it will have to submit to a great deal of very questionable informa- 
tion, not a lew false principles, and an unpleasant degree of intol- 
erant and narrow bigotry, that are propagated by such apostles of 
liberty and learning as Steadfast Dodge, Esquire. 

We have written in vain, it it now be necessary to point out a 
multitude of things in which that professed instructor and mentor 
of the public, the editor of the “ Active Inquirer,” had made a false 
estimate of himself, as well as of his fellow-creatures. That such a 
man should be ignorant is to be expected, as he had never been in- 
structed; that he was self-sufficient was owing to his ignorance, 
which oftener induces vanity than modesty; that he was intolerant 
and bigoted, follows as a legitimate effect of his provincial and 
contracted jaabits; that he was a hypocrite, came from his homage 
of the people; and that one thus constituted should be permitted 
periodically to pour out his vapidity, folly, malice, envy, and igno- 
rance, on his fellow-creatures, in the columns of a newspaper, was 
owing to a state of society in which the truth of the wholesome 
adage, ‘‘ That what is every man’s business is nobody’s business,” 
is exemplified not daily, but hourl}', in a hundred other interests 
of equal magnitude, as w’ell as to a capital mistake, that leads the 
community to fancy that whatever is done in their name is done for 
their good. 

As the ‘‘ Fun of Fire ” had, by this time, exhibited most of its 
beauties, the party belonging to the Wigwam left the balcony, and, 
the evening proving mild, they walked into the grounds of the build- 
ing, where they naturally broke into groups, conversing on the in- 
cidents of the day, or of such other matters as came uppermost. 
Occasionally, gleams of light were thrown across them from a fire- 
ball ; or a rocket’s starry train was still seen drawn in the air, re- 
sembling the wake of a ship at night, as it wades through the ocean. 


CHAPTER XXll. ‘ 

Gentle Octavia, 

Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks 
But to preserve it. 

Antony and Cleopatra. 

We shall not say it was an accident that brought Paul and Eve 
side by side, and a little separated from the others; for a secret sym- 
pathy had certainly exercised its influence over both, and probably 
contributed as much as anything else toward bringing about the cir- 
cumstance. Although the Wigwam stood in the center of the vil- 
lage, its grounds covered several acres, and were intersected with 
winding walks, and ornamented with shrubbery, in the well-known 
English style, improvements also of John Effingham; for, while the 
climate and forests of America offer so many inducements to en- 


208 


HOME AS EOUiN^H. 


courage landscape gardening, it* is the branch of art that, of all the 
other ornamental arts, is perhaps the least known in this country. 
It is true, time had not yet brought the labors of the projector to 
perfection in this instance; but enough had been done to afford very 
extensive, varied, and pleasing walks. Ihe grounds were broken, 
and John Effingham had turned the irregularities to good account, 
by planting and leading paths amoug them, to tne great amusement 
of the lookers-on, however who, like true disciples of the Manhat- 
tanese economy, had already begun to calculate the cost of what 
they termed grading the lawns, it being with them as much a mat- 
ter of course to bring pleasure-grounds down to a mathematical sur- 
face, as to bring a railroad route down to the proper level. 

Through these paths, and among the irregularities, groves, and 
shrubberies just mentioned, the parly began to stroll, one group tak- 
ing a direction eastward, another south, and a third westward, in 
a way soon to break them up into five or six ditierent divisions. 
These several portions of the company ere long got to move in op- 
posite directions, by taking the various paths, and while they fre- 
quently met, they did not often reunite. As has been already inti- 
mated, Eve and Paul w^ere alone, for the first time in their lives, 
under circumstances that admitted of an uninterrupted confidential 
conversation. Instead of profiting immediately, however, by this 
unusual occurrence, as many of our readers "may anticipate, the 
young man continued the discourse in which the whole party had 
been engaged wffien they entered the gate that communicated with 
the street. 

“ 1 know not whether you felt the same embarrassment as my- 
self, to-day. Miss Effingham,” he said, ” when the orator was dilat- 
ing on the glories of the republic, and on the high honors that ac- 
company the American name. Certainly, though a pretty extensive 
traveler, 1 have never yet been able to discover that it is any advan- 
tage abroad to be one of the ‘ fourleen millions of freemen.’ ” 

” Are we to attribute the mystery that so long hung over your 
birthplace to this fact?” Eve asked, a little pointedly. 

“ If I have made any seeming mystery as to the place of my birth, 
it has been involuntary on my part. Miss Effingham, so far as you 
at least have been concerned. 1 may not have thought myself 
authorized to introduce my own history into our little discussions, 
but 1 am not conscious of aiming at any unusual concealments. 
At Vienna, and in Switzerland, we met as travelers; and now that 
you appear disposed to accuse me of concealment, 1 may retort, and 
say that neither you nor your father ever expressly stated in my 
presence that you were Americans.” 

” Was that necessary, Mr. Powis?” 

” Perhaps not ; and I am wrong to draw a comparison betw^een my 
owm insignificance, and the eclat that attended you and j'our move- 
ments.” 

“Nay,” interrupted Eve, “do not misconceive me. My father 
felt an interest in you, quite naturally, after what had occurred on 
the Lake of Lucerne, and 1 believe he was desirous of making you 
out a countryman — a pleasure that he has at length received.” 

“ To own the truth, 1 w’as never quite certain, until my last visit 
to England, on wdiich side of the Atlantic 1 was actually born, and 


HOME AS rOUHI). 


209 


to this uncertainty, perhaps, may he attributed some ot that cosmopo- 
litism to which I made so many high pretensions in our late pas- 
sage.” 

” Not know where you were born!” exclaimed Eve, with an in- 
voluntary haste, that she immediately repented. 

‘‘ This, no doubt, sounds odd to you. Miss Effingham, who have 
always been the pride and solace ot a most allectionate father, but it 
has never been my good fortune to know either parent. My mother, 
who was the sister of Ducie's mother, died at my birth, and the loss 
of my father even preceded hers. 1 may be said to have been born 
an orphan.” 

Eve, for the first time in her life, had taken his arm, and the 
young man felt the gentle pressure ot her little hand, as she permit- 
ted tnis expression of sympathy to escape ner, at a moment she 
found so intensely interesting to herself. 

” It was, indeed, a misfortune, Mr. Fowis, and 1 fear j'-ou were, 
put into the navy through the want of those who would feel a natu- 
ral concern in your welfare.” 

” The navy was my own choice; partly, 1 think, from a certain 
love ot adventure, and quite as much, perhaps, with a wish to settle 
the question of my birthplace, practically, at least, by enlisting in 
the service of the one that 1 first knew, and certainly best loved.” 

” liut of that birthplace, 1 understand there is now no doubt?” 
said Eve, with more interest than she was herself conscious of be- 
traying. 

‘‘None whatever. 1 am a native of Philadelphia. That point 
was conclusively settled in my late visit to my aunt. Lady Duuluce, 
who was present at my birth?” 

‘‘ Is Lady Dunluce also an American?” 

‘‘ She is; never having quitted the country until after her mar- 
riage to Colonel Ducie. She was a younger sister of my mother’s, 
and, notwithstanding some jealousies and a little coldness that 1 trust 
have now disappeared, 1 am of opinion she loved her; though one 
can hardly answer for the durability of the family ties in a country 
where the institutions and habits are as artificial as in England.” 

‘‘Do you think there is le*ss family affection, then, in England 
than in America?” 

‘‘ 1 will not exactly say as much, though I am of opinion that 
neither country is remarkable in that way. In England, among the 
higher classes, it is impossible that the leelings should not be weak- 
ened by so many adverse interests. AVhen a brother knows that 
nothing stands between himself and rank and wealth, but the claims 
of one who w’as born a twelvemonth earlier than himself, he gets 
to feel more like a rival than a kinsman, and the temptation to envy 
or dislike, or even hatred, sometimes become stronger than the duty 
of love.” 

‘‘ And yet the English themselves say that the services rendered 
by the elder to the younger brother, and the gratitude of the younger 
to the elder, are so many additional ties.” 

“It would be contrary to all the Known laws of feeling and all 
experience, if this were so. The younger applies to the elder for aid 
in preference to a stranger, because he thinks he has a claim ; and 
what man who fancies he has a claim is disposed to believe justice 


210 


HOME AS EOUH-D. 


is fully done him; or who lhat is required to discharge a duty im- 
agines he has not done more than could be properly asked?” 

‘‘ 1 fear your opinion of men is none of the best, Mr. Howis!” 

“ There may be exceptions, but such I believe to be the common 
fate of humanity. The moment a duty is created, a disposition to 
think it easily discharged follows; and of all sentiments that of a 
continued and exacting gratitude is the most oppressive. 1 fear 
more brothers are aided through family pride, than through natural 
affection.” 

‘‘What, then, loosens the tie among ourselves, where no law of 
primogeniture exists?” 

‘‘ That which loosens everything. A love of change that has 
grown up with the migratory habits of the people; and which, per- 
haps, is in some measure fostered by the institutions. Here is Mr. 
Bragg to confirm what 1 say, and we may hear his sentiments on 
this subject.” 

As Aristabulus, with whom walked Mr. Dodge, just at that 
moment came out of the shrubbery, and took the same direction 
with themselves, Powis put the question, as one addresses an ac- 
quaintance in a room. 

‘‘ Rotation in feelings, sir,” returned Mr. Bragg, ‘‘ is human nat- 
ure, as rotation in office is natural justice. Some of our people are 
of opinion that it might be useful could the whole of society be 
made periodically to change places, in order that every one might 
know how his neighbor lives.” 

‘‘You are then an Agrarian, Mr. Bragg?” 

‘‘ As far from it as possible; nor do 1 believe you will find such an 
animal in this country. Where property is concerned, we are a 
people that never let go so long as we can hold on, sir; but beyond 
this, we like lively changes. Now, Miss Effingham, everybody 
thinks frequent changes of religious instructors, in particular, nec- 
essary. Tliere can be no vital piety without keeping the flame alive 
with excitement.” 

‘‘ 1 confess, sir, that my own reasoning would lead to a directly 
contrary conclusion, and that there can be no vital piety, as you term 
it, with excitement.” 

Mr. Bragg looked at Mr. Dodge, and Mr. Dodge looked at Mr. 
Bragg. Then each shrugged his shoulders, and the former con- 
tinued the discourse. 

“ That may be the case in Francp, Miss Effingham,” he said, 
‘‘ but in America we look to excitement as the great purifier. We 
should as soon expect the air in the bottom of a well to be elastic, 
as that the moral atmosphere shall be clear and salutary without the 
breezes of excitement. For my part, Mr. Dodge, 1 think no man 
should be a judge in the same court more than ten years at a time, 
and a priest gets to be rather commonplace and flat after five. 
There are men who may hold out a little longer, 1 acknowledge; 
but to keep real, vital, soul-saving regeneration stirring, a change 
should take place as ofteu as once in five years in a parish; that is 
my opinion, at least.” 

‘‘ But, sir,” rejoined Eve, ‘‘ as the laws of religion are immutable, 
the modes by which it is known universal, and the promises, medi- 


HOME AS EOtJKD. 211 

ation, and obligations are everywhere the same, 1 do not see what 
you propose to gain by so many changes.” 

‘‘Why, Miss Effingham, we change the dishes at table, and no 
family of my acquaintance more than this of your lionoiahle 
father’s; and 1 am surprised to find you opposed to the system.” 

” Our religion, sir,” answered Eve, gravely, ” is a duty, and rests 
on revelation and obedience'; while our diet may very innocently 
be a matter of mere taste, or even of caprice, if you will.” 

” Well, I confess 1 see no great difterence, the main object in this 
life being to stir people up, and to go ahead. 1 presume you know, 
Miss Eve, that many people think that we ought to change our own 
parson, if we expect a blessing on the congregation.” 

“ 1 should sooner expect a curse would follow an act of so much 
heartlessness, sir. Our clergyman has been with us since his en- 
trance into the duties of his holy office, and it will be difficult to 
suppose that the Divine favor would follow the commission of so 
selfish and capricious a step, with a motive no better than the de- 
sire for novelty.” 

‘‘You quite mistake the object. Miss Eve, which is to stir the 
people up; a hopeless thing, 1 fear, so long as they always sit un- 
der the same preaching.” 

‘‘ 1 have been taught to believe that piety is increased, Mr. Bragg, 
by the aid of the Holy Spirit’s sustaining and supporting us in our 
good desires; and 1 can not persuade myself that the Deity finds it 
necessary to save a soul by the means of any of those human agen- 
cies by which men sack towns, turn an election, or incite a mob. 
1 hear that extraordinary scenes are witnessed in this country in 
some of the other sects but 1 trust never to see the day when the 
apostolic, reverend, and sober church, in which 1 ha^e been nurt- 
ureil, shall attempt to advance the workines of that Divine power 
by a profane, human hurrah.” 

All this was Greek to Messrs. Dodge and Bragg, who, in further- 
ing their objects, were so accustomed to ‘‘ stirring people up,” thai 
they had quite forgotten that the more a man was in ‘‘an excite- 
ment,” the less he had to do with reason. The exaggerated re- 
ligious sects which first peopled America have had a strong in- 
fluence in transmitting to their posterity false notions on such sub- 
jects; for while the old world is accustomed to see Christianity used 
as an ally of government, and perverted from its one great end to be 
the instrument of ambition, cupidity, and selfishness, the new world 
has been fated to witness the reaction of such abuses, and to run 
into nearly as many errors in the opposite extreme. The two per- 
sons just mentioned had been educated in the provincial school of 
religious notions that is so much in favor in a portion of this coun- 
try; and they were striking examples of the truth of the adage, that 
‘‘ What is bred in the bone will be seen in the flesh,” for their com- 
mon character, common in this particular, at least, was a queer 
mixture of the most narrow superstitions and prejudices, that ex- 
isted under (he garb of religious training, and of unjustifiable 
frauds, meannesses, and even vices. Mr. Bragg was a better man 
than Mr. Dodge, for he had more self-reliance, and was more 
manly; but on the score of religion he had the same contradictory 
excesses, and there was a common point in the way of vulgar vice 


212 


HOME AS EG UNO. 


toward which each tended, simply for the want of breeding ami 
tastes, as infallibly as the needle points to the xJole. Cards were 
often introduced in Mr. Effingliam’s drawing-room, and there was 
one apartment expressly devoted to a billiard-table; and many was 
the secret fling and biting ffibe that these pious devotees passed be- 
tween themselves, on the subject of so flagrant an instance of immo- 
rality in a family of so high moral pretensions; the two worthies not 
unfrequently concluding their comments by repairing to some secret 
room in a tavern, where, after carefully locking the door, and draw- 
ing the curtains, they would order brandy, and pass a refreshing 
hour in endeavoring to relieve each other of the labor of carrying 
their odd sixpences, by means of little shoemaker’s loo. 

On the present occasion, however, the earnestness of Eve pro- 
duced a pacifying effect on their consciences, for as our heroine 
never raised her sweet voice above the tones of a gentlewoman, its 
very mildness and softness gave force to her expressions. Had 
John Effingham uttered the sentiments to which they had just list- 
ened, it is probable Mr. Bragg would have attempted an answer; 
but under the circumstances, he preferred making his bow and di- 
verging into the first path that offered, followed by his companion. 
Eve and Paul continued their circuit of the grounds, as it no inter- 
ruption had taken place. 

“ This disposition to change is getting to be universal in the coun- 
try,” remarked the latter, as soon* as Aristabulus and his friend had 
left them, ” and 1 consider it one of the worst signs of the times; 
more especially since it has become so common to connect it with 
what it is the fashion to call excitement.” 

‘‘To return to the subject which these gentlemen interrupted,” 
said Eve, ” that of family ties: ] have always heard England 
quoted as one of the strongest instances of a nation in which this 
lie is slight, beyond its aristocratical influence; and 1 should be sorry 
to suppose that we are following in the footsteps of our good- 
mother, in this respect, at least.”' 

‘‘ Has Mademoiselle Vief vide never made any remark on this sub- 
ject?” 

‘‘ Mademoiselle Vief ville, though observant, is discreet. That she 
believes the standard of the affections as high in this as in her own 
country, 1 do not think; for, like most Europeans, she considers 
the Americans to be a passionless people, who are more bound up 
in the interests of gain than in any other of the concerns of life.” 

‘‘ She does not know us!” said Paul, so earnestly as to cause Eve 
to start at the deep energy with which he spoKe. ‘‘ The passions 
lie as deep, and run in currents as strong here as In any other part 
of the world, though, there not being as" many factitious causes to 
dam them, they less seldom break through the bounds of propriety.” 

For near a minute the two paced the walk in silence, and Eve be- 
gan to wish that some one of the party would again join them, that 
a conversation which she felt was getting to be awkward, might be 
interrupted. But no one crossed their path again, and without rude- 
ness or affectation, she saw no means of effecting her object. Paul 
was too much occupied with his own feelings to observe his com- 
panion’s embarrassment, and, after the short pause mentioned, he 


HOME AS FOUHH. 213 

naturally pursued the subject, though in a less emphatic manner 
than before. 

“ It was an old and a favorite theory with the Europeans,” he 
said, with a sort of bitter irony, ” that all the animals of this hem- 
isphere have less gifted natures than those of the other; nor is it a 
theory of which they are yet entirely rid. The Indian was supposed 
to be passionless, because he had self-command; and what in the 
European would be thought exhibiting the feelings of a noble nature 
in him has been represented as ferocity and revenge. Miss Effing- 
ham, you and 1 have seen Europe, have stood in tne presence of its 
wisest, its noblest, and its best; and what have they to boast beyond 
the immediate results of their factitious and labored political systems 
that is denied to the American — or rather would be denied to the 
American, had the latter the manliness and mental independence to 
be equal to his fortunes?” 

” Which you think he is not.” 

” How can a people be even independent that imports its thoughts 
as it does its wares, that has not the spirit to invent even its own 
prejudices?” 

” Something should be allowed to habit and to the influence of 
time. England herself, probably, has inherited some of her false 
notions from the Saxons and Normans.” 

‘‘ That is not only possible, but probable; but England, in think- 
ing of Russia, France, Turkey, or Egypt, when induced to think 
wrong, yields to an English, and not to an American interest. Her 
errors are at least requited, in a degree, by serving her own ends, 
whereas ours are made too often to oppose our most obvious in- 
terests. We are never independent unless when stimulated by some 
strong and pressing moneyed concern, and not often then beyond 
the plainest of its effects. ’ Here is one, apparently, who does not 
belong to our party.” 

Paul interrupted himself, in consequence of their meeting a 
stranger in the walk, v^o moved with the indecision of one uncer- 
tain whether to advance or recede. Rockets frequently fell into the 
grounds, and there had been one or two inroads of boys, which had 
been tolerated on account of the occasion; but this intruder was a 
man in the decline of life, of the condition of a warm tradesman, 
seemingly, and he clearly had no connection with sky-rockets, as 
his eyes were turried inquiringly on the persons of those who passed 
him from time to time, none of whom had he stopped, however, un- 
til he now placed himself before Paul and Eve, in a way to denote 
a desire to speak. 

‘‘ The young people are making a merry night of if,” he said, 
keeping a hand in each coat-pocket, while he unceremoniously oc- 
cupied the center of the narrow walk, as if determined to compel a 
parley. 

Although sufficiently acquainted with the unceremonious habits 
of the people of the country to feel no surprise at this intrusion, 
Paul was vexed at having his tete-d-tete with Eve so rudely broken; 
and he answered with more of the hauteur of the quarter-deck than 
he might otherwise have done, by saying coldly — 

‘‘ Perhaps, sir, it is your wish to see Mr. Effingham — or — ” hesi- 
tating an instant, as he scanned the stranger’s appearance—” some 


214 


HOME AS FOUND. 


of his people. The first will soon pass this spot, and you will find 
most of the latter on the lawn, watching the rockets.” 

The man regarded Paul a moment, and then he removed his hat 
respectfully. 

‘‘ Please, sir, can you inform me if a gentleman called Captain 
Truck— one that sails the packets between New York and England, 
is staying at the Wigwam at present? ” 

Paul told him that the captain was walking with Mr. Effingham, 
and that the next pair that approached would be they. The stranger 
fell back, keeping his hat respectfully in his hand, and the two 
passed. 

“That man has been an English servant, but has been a little 
spoiled by the reaction of an excessive libert}'^ to do as he pleases. 
The ‘please, sir,’ and the attitude, can hardly be mistaken, while 
the nonchalance of his manner d nous ahorder, sufficiently betrays 
the second edition of his education?” 

“lam curious to know what this person can want with our ex- 
cellent captain — it can scarcely be one of the ‘ Montauk’s ’ crew!” 

‘‘ 1 will answer for it that the fellow has not enough seamaaship 
about him to whip a rope,” said Paul, laughing; ” for if there be 
two temporal pursuits that have less affinity than any twm others, 
they are those of the pantry and the tar-bucket. 1 think it will be 
seen that this man has been an English servant, and he has probably 
been a passenger on board some ship commanded by our honest old 
friend.” 

Eve and Paul now turned, and they met Mr. Effingham and the 
captain just as the twm latter reached the spot where the stranger 
stood still. 

‘‘This is Captain Truck, the gentleman for whom you inquired,” 
said Paul. 

The stranger looked hard at the captain, and the captain looked 
hard at the stranger, the obscurity rendering a pretty close scrutin}’- 
necessar}'’, to enable either to distinguish featj^res. The examination, 
seemed to be mutually unsatisfactory, for each retired a little, like a’ 
man who had not found a face that he knew. 

‘‘ There must be two Captain Trucks, then, in the trade,” said the 
stranger; ‘‘ this is not the gentleman 1 used to know.” 

‘‘ 1 think you are as right in the latter part of jmur remark, friend, 
as you are wrong in the first,” returned the captain. ‘‘ Know you 
1 do not; and yet there are no more twm Captain Trucks in the En- 
glish trade than there are two Miss Eve Effinghams or two Mrs. 
llawkers in the universe. 1 am John Truck, and no other man ot 
that name ever sailed a ship between New York and England in my 
day at least.” 

‘‘ Did you ever command the ‘ Dawn,’ sir?” 

‘‘ The ‘ Dawn!’ That 1 did; and the ‘ Regulus,’ and the ‘ Man- 
hattan,’ and the ^Willful Girl,’ and the ‘ Deborah Angelina,’ and 
the ‘ Sukey and Katy,’ which, my dear young lady, 1 may say, was 
my first love. She was only a fore-and-after, carrying no standing 
topsail even, and we named her after two of the river girls, who 
were flyers in their way; at least, 1 thought so then; though a man 
by sailing a packet comes to alter his notions about men and things, 
or, for that matter, about women and things too. 1 got into a category 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


215 


in that schooner that 1 never expect to see equaled; fori was driven 
ashore to windward in her, which is gibberish to you, my dear 
young lady, but which Mr. Powis will very well understand, though 
he may not be able to explain it.” 

‘‘ 1 certainly know what 5’^ou mean,’* said Paul, ” though I con- 
fess 1 am in a category, as w^ell as the schooner, so far as knowing 
how it could have happened.” 

” The ‘ Sukey and Katy ’ ran away with me, that’s the upshot of 
it. Since that time 1 have never consented to command a vessel that 
was called after two of our river j'Oung women, tor 1 do believe 
that one of them is as much as a common mariner can manage. You 
see, Mr. Effingham, we were running along a weather-shore, as 
close in as we could get, to be in the eddy, when a squall struck her 
a-beam, and she luffed light on to the beach. ISlo helping it. Helm 
hard up, peak down, head sheets to windward, and main sheet flying, 
but it was all too late; away she went plump ashore to windward. 
But foi that accident I think 1 mijrht have married.” 

” And what connection could you find between matrimony and 
this accident, captain?” demanded the laughing Eve. 

“ There was an admonition in it, my dear young lady, that 1 
thought was not to be disregarded. 1 tried the ‘ Willful Girl ’ next, 
and she was thrown on her beam-ends with me; after which 1 re- 
nounced all female names, and took to the Egyptian.” 

” The Egyptian!” 

” Certainly, ‘ Regulus,’ who was a great snake-killer, they tell 
me, in that part of the world. But ]. never saw my way quite clear 
as bachelor until I got the ‘Dawn.’ Did you know that ship, 
friend?” 

” I believe, sir, 1 made two passages in her while you commanded 
her.” 

‘‘ISlothing more likely; we carried lots of your countrymen, 
though mostly forward of the gangways. 1 commanded the ‘ Dawn ’ 
more than twenty years ago.” 

” It is all of that time since 1 crossed with you, sir; you may re- 
member that we fell in with a wreck, ten days after we sailed, and 
took off her crew and two passengers. Three or four of the latter 
had died with their sufferings, and several of the people.” 

‘‘ All this seems but as yesterday! The wreck was a Charleston 
ship, that had started a butt.” 

‘‘ Yes, sir— yes, sir — that is just it— she had started, but could not 
ffet in. That is just what they said at the time. I am David, sir— 
1 should think you can not have forgotten David. ” 

The honest captain was very willing to gratify the other’s harm- 
less self-importance, though, to tell the truth, he retained no more 
personal knowledge of the David of the ‘‘ Dawn,” than he had of 
David, King of the Jews. 

“Oh, David!” he cried, cordially; “are you David? Well, 1 
did not expect to see you again in this world, though I never doubted 
where we should be hereafter. 1 hope you are very well, David; 
what sort of weather have you made* of it since we parted? If 1 
recollect aright, you worked your passage; never at sea before?” 

“ 1 beg your pardon, sir; 1 never was at sea before the first time, 
it is true; but 1 did not belong to the crew. 1 was a passenger.” 


216 


HOME AS FOUHl). 


“ 1 remember, now, you were in the steerage,” returned the cap- 
tain, who saw daylight ahead. 

” ]Not at all, sir, but in the cabin.” 

” Cabin!” echoed the captain, who perceived none of the requisites 
of a cabin- passenger in the other; “oh! 1 understand, in the 
pantry?” 

” Exactly so, sir. You may remember my master; he had the 
left-hand state-room to himself, and 1 slept next to the scuttle-butt. 
You recollect master, sir?” 

‘‘ Out of doubt, a very good fellow he was. 1 hope you live with 
him still?” 

” Lord bless you, sir, he is dead!” 

” Oh, 1 recollect hearing ol it at the time. Well, David, 1 hone 
if ever we cross again, we shall be shipmates once more. We w^ere 
beginners, then, but we have ships worth living in now. Good- 
night.” 

‘‘Do you remember Dowse, sir, that we got from the wreck?" 
continued the other, unwilling to give up his gossip so soon. ” He 
was a dark man, that had had the small-pox badly. 1 think, sir, 
you will recollect him, for he was a hard man in other particulars 
besides his countenance.” 

” Somewhat flinty about the soul; 1 remember the man well; and 
so, David, -good-night; you will come and see me if you are ever in 
town. Good-night, David.” 

David was now compelled to leave the place, tor Captain Truck, 
who perceived that the whole party was getting together again in 
consequence of the halt, felt the propriety of dismissing his visitor, 
of whom, his master, and Dowse, he retained just as much recollec- 
tion as one retains of a common stage coach companion after twenty 
years. The appearance of Mr. Ilowel, who just at that moment 
approached them, aided the maneuver, and in a few minutes the 
different groups were again in motion, though some slight changes 
had taken place in the distribution of the parties. 


CHAPTER XXIll. 

How silver sweet sound lovers’ tongues at night, 

Like softest music to attending ears! 

Romeo and Jxdiet. 

” A POOH matter, this of the fireworks,’” said Mr. Howel, who, 
with an old bachelor’s want of tact, had joined Eve and Paul in 
their w’alk. ‘‘ The English would laugh at them famously, 1 dare 
say. Have you heard Sir George allude to them at all. Miss Eve?” 

” It would be great affectation for an Englishman to deride flie 
fireworks of any dry climate,” said Eve, laughing; ‘‘and 1 dare 
say, if Sir George Templemore has been silent on the subject, it is 
because he is conscious he knows little about it.” 

‘‘ Well, that is odd! I should think England the very first coun- 
try in the world for fireworks. 1 hear. Miss Eve, that, on the whole, 
the baronet is rather pleased with us; and 1 must say that he is 
getting to be very popular in Templeton.” 

‘‘ >iothing is easier than for an Englishman to become popular in 


HOME AS FOUND. 


217 


America,” observed Paul, ‘‘especially if liis condition in life be 
above that of the vulgar. He has only to declare himself pleased 
with America; or, to be sincerely hated, to declare himself dis- 
pleased.” 

“ And in what does America differ from any other country in 
this respect?” asked Eve, quickl)^ 

‘‘Not much, certainly; love induces love, and dislike dislike. 
There is nothing new in all this; but the people of other countries, 
having more confidence in themselves, do not so sensitively inquire 
what others think of them. 1 believe this contains the whole differ- 
ence.” 

‘‘ But Sir George does rather like us?” inquired Mr. Howel, with 
interest. 

‘‘lie likes some of us particularly well,” returned Eve. ‘‘Do 
you not know that my cousin Grace is to beconie Mrs. — I beg her 
pardon — Lady Templemore, very shortly?” 

‘‘Good God! Is that possible— Lady Templemore I Lady Grace 
Templemore!” 

‘‘Not Lady Grace Templemore, but Grace, Lady Templemore, 
and graceful Lady Templemore into the bargain.” 

” And this honor, my dear Miss Eve, they tell me you refused!” 

‘‘ They tell you wrong, then, sir,” answered the^young lady, a 
little startled with the suddenness and hrmquene of the remark, and 
yet prompt to do justice to all concerned. ‘‘Sir George Temple- 
more never did me the honor to propose to me, or for me, and con- 
sequently he could not be refused.” 

‘‘ It is very extraordinary! 1 hear you were actually acquainted 
in Europe?” 

‘‘We were, Mr. Howel, actually acquainted in Europe, but Iknew 
hundreds of persons in Europe who have never dreamed of asking 
me lo marry them.” 

‘‘ This is very strange— quite unlooked for— to marry Miss Van 
Cortlandt! Is Mr. John Effingham in the grounds?” 

Eve made no answer; but Paul hurriedly observed — 

‘‘ You will find him in the next walk, 1 think, by returning a 
short distance, and taking the first path to the left.” 

Mr. Howel did as told, and was soon out of sight. 

‘‘ That is a most earnest believer in English superiority, and, one 
may say, by his strong desire to give you an English husband, Miss 
Effingham, in English merit.” 

‘‘It is the weak spot in the character of a very honest man. They 
tell me such instances were much more frequent in this country 
thirty years since than they are to-day.” 

‘‘ 1 can easily believe it, for 1 think 1 remember some characters 
of the sort myself. 1 have heard those who are older than I am 
draw a distinction like this between the state of feeling that prevailed 
foiU’' years ago and that which prevails to-day; they say that former- 
ly England absolutely and despotically thought for America, in all 
but those cases in which the interests of the two nations conflicted; 
and 1 have even heard competent judges affirm, that so powerful 
was the influence of habit, and bo successful the schemes of the 
political managers of the mother country, that even many of those 
who fought for the independence of America, actually doubted of 


218 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


the propriety of their acts, as Luther is known to have had fits of 
despondency concerning the justness of the reformation he was pro- 
ducing; while latterly, the leaning toward England is less the result 
of a simple mental dependence — though of that there still remains a 
disgraceful amount — than of calculation, and a desire in a certain 
class to defeat the dominion of the mass, and to establish that of a 
few in its stead.” 

” It would, indeed, be a strange consummation of this history of 
this country to find it becoming monarchical!” 

” There are a few monarchists no doubt springing up in the coun- 
try, though almost entirely in a class that only knows the world 
through the imagination and by means of books; but the disposition 
in our time is to aristocracy, and not to monarchy. Most men that 
get to be rioh discover that they are no happier tor their possessions; 
perhaps every man who has not been trained and prepared to use his 
means properly is in this category, as our friend the captain would 
call it, and then they begin to long for some other untried advan- 
tages. The example of the rest of the world is before our own 
wealthy, and, faute d' imagination, they imitate because they can not 
invent. Exclusive political power is also a great ally in the accumu- 
lation of money, and a portion have the sagacity to see it; though 1 
suspect more pine for the vanities of the exclusive classes than for 
the substance. \our sex, Miss Effingham, as a whole, is not above 
this latter weakness, as 1 think you must have observed in your in- 
tercourse with those you met abroad. ’ ’ 

“ 1 met with some instances of weakness in this way,” said Eve, 
with reserve, and with the pride of a woman, ” though not more, 1 
think, than among the men; and seldom, in either case, among 
those whom we are accustomed to consider people of condition at 
home. The self-respect and the habits of the latter generally pre- 
served them from betraying this feebleness of character, if inileed 
they felt it.” 

‘‘ The Americans abroad maybe divided into two great classes: 
those who go for improvement in the sciences of the arls, and those 
who so for mere amusement. As a whole, the former have struck me 
as being singularly respectable, equally removed from an apish 
servility and a swaggering pretension of superiority; while, 1 fear, 
a majority of the latter have a disagreeable direction toward the 
vanities.” 

” 1 will not affirm the contrary,” said Eve, “ for frivolity and 
pleasure are only too closely associated in ordinary minds. The 
number of those who prize the elegancies of life for their intrinsic 
value is everywhere small, 1 should think; and 1 question if Europe 
is much better off than ourselves in this respect.” 

“ This may be true, and yet one can only regret that, in a case 
where so much dex)ends on example, the tone of our people was not 
more assimilated to their facts. 1 do not know whether you w ere 
struck with the same peculiarity, but, whenever 1 felt in the mood 
to hear high monarchical and aristocratical doctrines blindly pro- 
mulgated, 1 used to go to the nearest American Legation.” 

1 have heard this fact commented on,” Eve answered, ‘‘ and even 
by foreigners, and I confess it has always struck me as singular. 


HOME AS EOUHH. 


219 


Why should the agent of a republic make a parade of his anti-repub- 
lican sentiments?” 

‘‘ That there are exceptions, 1 will allow; but, after the experience 
of many years, 1 honestly think that such is the rule. 1 might dis- 
trust my own opinion, or my own knowledge; but others, with op- 
portunities equal to my own, have come to the same conclusion. 1 
have just received a letter from Europe, complaining that an Ameri- 
can Envoy Extraordinary, who would as soon think of denouncing 
himself as utter the same sentiments openly at home, lias given an 
opinion against the utility of the vote by ballot; and this, too, under 
circumstances that might naturally be thought to produce a prac- 
tical effect.” 

“ Tant pis. To me all this is inexplicable!” 

” It has its solution. Miss Effingham, like any other problem. 
In ordinary times extraordinary men seldom become prominent, 
power passing into the hands of clever managers. Now, the very 
vanity and the petty desires that betray themselves in glittering uni- 
forms, puerile affectations, and feeble imitations of other systems, 
probably induce more than half of those who fill the foreign mis- 
sions to apply tor them, and it is no more than we ought to expect 
that the real disposition should betray itself, when there was no 
longer any necessity for hypocrisy.” 

” But I should think this necessity for hypocrisy would never 
cease. Can it be possible that a people as much attached to their in- 
stitutions as the great mass of the American nation is known to be, 
will tolerate such a base abandonment of all they cherish?” 

‘‘ How are they to know anything about it? It is a startling fact, 
and there is a man at this instant who has not a single claim to srrch 
a confidence, either in the way of mind, principles, manners, or at- 
tainments, filling a public trust abroad, who, on all occasions, ex- 
cept those which he thinks will come directly before the American 
people, not only proclaims himself opposed to the great principles of 
the institutions, but who, in a recent controversy with a foreign 
nation, actually took sides against his own country, informing that 
of the opposing nation that the administration at home would not be 
supported by the legislatiye part of the goyernment!” 

” And why is not this publicly exposed?” 

“ Cui bonof The presses that haye no direct interest in the mat- 
ter would treat the affair with indifference or levity, while a tew 
would mystify the truth. It is quite impossible for any man in a 
private station to make the truth available in any country in a mat- 
ter of public interest; and those in public stations seldom or never 
attempt it, unless they see a direct party end to be obtained. This 
is the reason that we see so much infidelity to the principles of the 
institutions among the public agents abroad, for they very well 
know that no one will be able to expose them. In addition to this 
motive, there is so strong a desire in that portion of the community 
which is considered the highest, to effect a radical change in these 
very institutions, that infidelity to them, in their eyes, would be a 
merit, rather than an offense.” 

“Surely, surely, other nations are not treated in this cavalier 
manner!” 

“ Certainly not. The foreign agent of a prince who should wbis- 


220 


SOME AS EOUND. 


per a syllable against bis master would be recalled with disgrace; 
but the servant of the people is diflerently situated, since there are 
so many to be persuaded of his guilt. 1 could always get along 
with all the attacks that the Europeans are so fond of making on the 
American system, but those which they quoted from the mouths of 
our own diplomatic agents.” 

” Why do not our travelers expose this?” 

” Most of them see too little to know anything of it. They dine 
at a diplomatic table, see a star or two, fancy themselves obliged, 
and puff elegancies that have no existence, except in their owm 
brains. Some think with the unfaithful, and see no harm in the in- 
fidelity. Others calculate the injury to themselves, and no small 
portion would fancy it a greater proof of patriotism to turn a sen- 
tence in favor of the comparative ‘ energies ’ and ‘ superior intelli- 
gence ’ of their own people, than to point out this or any other dis- 
graceful fact, did they even possess the opportunities to discover it. 
Though no one thinks more highly of these qualities in the Ameri- 
cans, considered in connection with practical things, than myself, 
no one, probably, gives them less credit for their ability to dis- 
tinguish between appearances and reality, in matters of principle.” 

” It is probable that were we nearer to the rest of the world these 
abuses would not exist, for it is certain that they are not so openly 
practiced at home. I am glad, however, to find that, even while 
you felt some uncertainty concerning your own birthplace, you took 
so much interest in us as to identify yourself in feeling, at least, 
with the nation.” 

‘‘ There was one moment when 1 w’as really afraid that the truth 
would show 1 was actually born an Englishman — ” 

‘‘ Afraid!” interrupted Eve; ” that is a strong word to apply to 
so great and glorious a people.” 

‘‘ We cannot always account for our prejudices, and perhaps this 
was one of mine; and now that 1 know that to be an Englishman is 
not the greatest possible merit in your eyes. Miss Efflnghham, it is 
in no manner lessened.” 

‘‘ In my eyes, Mr. Powis! 1 do not remember to have expressed 
any partiality for or any prejudice against the English; so far as 1 
can speak of my own feelings, 1 regard the English the same as any 
other foreign people.” 

” In words you have not, certainly; but acts speak louder than 
words.” 

” Aou are disposed to be mysterious to-night. What act of mine 
has declared pro or con in this important affair?” 

” You have at least done what, 1 fear, few of your countrywomen 
would have the moral courage and self-denial to do, and especially 
those who are accustomed to li\dng abroad — refused to be the wife 
of an English baronet of a good estate and respectable family.” 

“Mr. Powis,” said Eve, gravely, “this is an injustice to Sir 
George Templemoie that my sense of right will not permit to go 
uncontradicted, as well as an injustice to my sex and me. As 1 told 
Mr. Howel in your presence, that gentleman has never proposed for 
, me, and of course can not have been refused. Nor can I suppose 
that any American gentlewoman can deem so paltry a thing as a 
baronetcy an inducement to forget her self-respect.” 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


221 


“ 1 fully appreciate your generous modesty, Miss EfflngUam; but 
you can not expect that 1, to whom Templemore’s admiration gave 
so much uneasiness, not to say pain, am to understand you, as Mr. 
Howel has probably done, too broadly. Although Sir George may 
not have positively proposed, his readiness to do so, on the least en- 
couragement, was too obvious to be overlooked by a near observer.” 

Eve was ready to gasp for breath, so completely by surprise was 
she taken by the calm, earnest, and yet respectful manner in which 
Paul confessed his jealousy. There was a tremor in his voice, too, 
usually so clear and even, that touched her heart, for feeling re- 
sponds to feeling, as the echo answers sound when there exists a real 
• sympathy between the sexes. She felt the necessity of saying some- 
thing, and yet they had walked some distance ere it was in her 
power to utter a syllable. 

“1 fear my presumption has offended you. Miss Effingham,” 
said Paul, speaking more like a corrected child than the lion-hearted 
young man he had proved himself. 

There was deep homage in the emotion he betrayed, and Eve, 
although she could barely distinguish his features, was not slow in 
discovering this proof of the extent of her power over his feelings. 

‘‘ Do not call it presumption,” she said; “ for one who has done 
so much for us all, can surely claim some right to take an interest 
in those he has so well served. As for Sir George Tempi emore, 
you have probably mistaken the feeling created by our common ad- 
ventures for one of more importance. He is warmly and sincerely 
attached to m^- cousin, Grace Van Cortlandt.” 

“That he is so now, 1 fully believe; but that a very different 
.magnet first kept him from the Canadas, 1 am sure. We treated 
each other generously. Miss Effingham, and had no concealments, 
during that long and anxious night, when all expected that the day 
would dawn on our captivity. Templemore is too manly and honest 
to deny his former desire to obtain you for a wife, and I think even 
he would admit that it depended entirely on yourself to be so, or 
not.” 

“ This is an act of self-humiliation that he is not culled on to 
perform,” Eve hurriedly replied; “such allusions, now, are worse 
than useless, and they might pain my cousin, were she to hear them,” 

“ 1 am mistaken in my friend’s character if he leave his betrothed 
in any doubt on this subject. Five minutes of perfect frankness, 
now, might obviate years of distrust hereafter.” 

“ And w'ould you, Mr. Powis, avow’- a former weakness of this 
sort to the woman you had finally selected for your wife?” 

“ 1 ought not to quote myself for authority for or against such a 
course, since 1 have never loved but one, and her with a passion too 
single and too ardent ever to admit of competition. Miss Effing- 
ham, there would be something worse than affectation — it would be 
trifling with one who is sacred in my eyes, were I now to refrain 
from speaking explicitly, although what I am about to say is forced 
from me by circumstances, rather than voluntary, and is almost ut- 
tered without a definite object. Have 1 your permission to proceed ?” 

“ You can scarcely need a permission, being the master of your 
own secrets, Mr. Powis.” 

Paul like all men agitated by strong passion, was inconsistent, 


222 


HOME AS FOUND. 


and far from just; and Eve felt the truth of this, even while her 
mind was ingeniously framing excuses for his weakness. Still the 
impression th^at she was about to listen to a declaration that possibly 
ought never to be made, weighed upon her, and caused her to 
speak with more coldness than she aclually felt. As she continued 
silent, however, the young man saw that it had become indispensa- 
bly necessary to be explicit. 

“ 1 snail not detain you, Miss Effingham, perhaps vex you,” he 
said, “ with the history of those early impressions which have grad- 
ually grown upon me, until they have become interwoven with my 
very existence. We met, as you know, at Vienna, for the first time. 
An Austrian of rank, to whom 1 had become known through some 
fortunate circumstances, introduced me into the best society of that 
capital, in which 1 found you the admiration of all who knew you. 
My first feeling was that of exultation, at seeing a young country- 
woman — you were then almost a child. Miss Effingham — the great- 
est attraction of a capital celebrated for the beauty and grace of its 
women — ” 

“ Your national partialities have made you an unjust judge to- 
ward others, Mr. rowis,” Eve interrupted him by saying, though 
the earnestness and passion with which the young man uttered his 
feelings made music to her ears; “ what had a young, frightened, 
half-educated American girl to boast of when put in competition with 
the finished women of Austria?” 

” Her surpassing beauty, her unconscious superiority, her attain- 
ments, her trembling simplicity and modesty, and her meek 
purity of mind. All these did you possess, not only in my eyes, 
but in those of others; tor these are subjects on which 1 dwelt too 
fondly to be mistaken.” 

A rocket passed near them at the moment, and while both were 
too much occupied by the discourse to heed the interruption, its 
transient light enabled Paul to see the flushed cheeks anil tearful 
eyes of Eve, as the latter were turned on him in a grateful pleasure, 
ttiat his ardent praises extorted from her, in spite of all her struggles 
for self-command. 

“We will leave 1o others this comparison, Mr. Powis,” she said, 
” and confine ourselves to less doubtful subjects.” 

” If 1 am then to speak only of that which is beyond all question, 
1 shall speak chiefly of my long-cherished, devoted, unceasing love. 
1 adored you at Vienna, Miss Effingham, though it was at a dis- 
tance, as one might worship the sun; "for while your excellent father 
admitted me to his society, and 1 even think honored me with some 
portion of his esteem, 1 had but little opportunity 1o ascertain the 
value of the jewel that was contained in so beautiful a casket; but 
when we met the following summer in Switzerland, 1 first begun 
truly to love. Then 1 learned the justness of thought, the beauti- 
ful candor, the perfectly feminine delicacy of your mind; and, al- 
though 1 will not say that these qualities were not enhanced, in the 
eyes of so young a man, by the extreme beauty of their possessor, 1 
will say that, as weighed against each other, 1 could a thousand 
times prefer the former to the latter, unequaled as the latter almost 
is even among your own beautiful sex.” 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


223 

“ This is presenting flattery in its most seductive form, Mr. 
Powis.” 

“Perhaps my incohei’ent and abrupt manner of explaining my- 
self deserves a rebuke; though nothing can be further from my in- 
tentions than to seem to flatter, or in any manner to exaggerate. 1 
intend merely to give a faithful history of the state of my feelings, and 
of the progress of my love.” 

Eve smiled faintly, but sweetly, as Paul would have thought, had 
the obscurity permitted more than a dim view of her lovely counte- 
nance. 

“ Ought 1 to listen to such praises, Mr. Powis,” she asked; 
“ praises which only contribute to a self-esteem that is too great al- 
ready?” 

“No one but yourself would say this; but your question does, 
indeed, remind me of the indiscretion that 1 have fallen into, by 
losing that command of my feelings in v^hich 1 have so long exulted. 
No man should make a woman the confidante of his attachment, 
until he is fully prepared to accompany the declaration with an offer 
of his hand — and such is not my condition.” 

Eve made no dramatic start, assumed no look of affected surprise 
or of wounded dignity; but she turned on her lover her serene eyes, 
with an expression of concern so eloquent, and of a wonder so nat- 
ural, that could he have seen it, it would probably have overcome 
every difficulty on the spot, and produced the usual offer, notwith- 
standing the obstacle that he seemed to think insurmountable. 

“ And yet,” he continued, “ 1 have now said so much, involun- 
tarily as it has been, that 1 feel it not only due to you, but in some 
measure to mj^selt, to add that the fondest wish of my heart, the 
end and aim of all my day-dreams, as well as of my most sober 
thoughts for the future, center in the common wish to obtain you 
for a wife.” 

The eye of Eve fell, and the expression of her countenance 
changed, while a slight but uncontrollable tremor ran ttirough her 
frame. After a short pause she summoned all her lesolution, and in 
a voice, the firmness of which surprised even herself, she asked: 

“ Mr. Powis, to what does all this tend?” 

“ Well may you ask that question. Miss EflBngham! You have 
every right to put it, and the answer, at least, shall add no further 
cause of self-reproach. Give me, 1 entreat you, but a minute to 
collect my thoughts, and 1 will endeavor to acquit myself of an im- 
perious duty, in a manner more manly and coherent than 1 fear has 
been observed for the last ten minutes.” 

They walked a short distance in profound silence, Eve still under 
the influence of astonishment, in which an uncertain and indefinite 
dread of, she scarcely knew what, began to mingle; and Paul, en- 
deavoring to quiet the tumult that had been so suddenly aroused 
within him. The latter then spoke: 

“ Circumstances have alwa 3 ^s deprived me of the happiness of ex- 
periencing the tenderness and sympathy of your sex. Miss Effing- 
ham, and have thrown me more exclusively among the colder and 
ruder spirits of my own. My mother died at the time of my birth, 
thus cutting me off at once from one of the dearest of earthly ties. 

] am not certain that 1 do not exaggerate the loss in consequence of 


224 


HO:\IE AS FOUND. 


the privations 1 have suffered ; but from the hour wlien 1 first learned 
to feel, 1 have had a yearning for the tender, patient, endearing, dis- 
interested love of a mother. "You, loo, suffered a similar loss, at an 
early period, if 1 have been correctly informed — 

A sob — a stifled, but painful sob, escaped Eve; and inexpressibly 
shocked, Paul ceased dwelling on his own sources of sorrow, to at- 
tend to those he had so unintentionally disturbed. 

“ I have been selfish, dearest Miss Effingham,” he exclaimed — 
” have overtaxed your patience— have annoyed you with griefs and 
losses that have no interests for you, which can have no interest, 
with one happy and blessed as yourself.” 

“ No, no, no, Mr. Prowls —you are unjust to both. I, too, lost my 
mother when a mere child, and never knew her love and tenderness. 
Proceed; 1 am calmer, and earnestly entreat you to forget my weak- 
ness, and to proceed.” 

Paul did proceed, but this brief interruption in which they had 
mingled their sorrows for a common misfortune, struck a new chord 
of feeling, and removed a mountain of reserve and distance that 
might otherwise have obstructed their growing confidence. 

“ Cut off in this manner from my neiirest and dearest natural 
friend,” Paul continued, ” 1 was thrown, an infant, into the care of 
hirelings; and, in this at least my fortune was still more cruel than 
your own; for the excellent woman who has been so happy as to 
have had the charge of your infancy, had nearly the love of a nat- 
ural mother, however she may have been wanting in the attainments 
of one of your own condition in life.” 

” But we had both of us our fathers, Mr. Powis. To me my ex- 
cellent, high-principled, affectionate- -nay tender father, has been 
every tiiinir. Without him, I should have been truly miserable; and 
with him, notwithstanding these rebellious tears — tears that 1 must 
ascribe to the infection of your own grief — 1 have been truly blessed. ” 

” Mr. Effingham deserves this from you, but 1 never "knew my 
father, you will remember.” 

”1 am an unworthy confidante, to have forgotten this so soon. 
Poor Mr. Powis, you were, indeed, unhappy!” 

” He had parted from my mother before my birtli, and either died 
soon after, or has never deemed his child of sufficient worth to make 
him the subject of interest sufficient to excite a single inquiry into 
his fate.” 

” Then he never knew that child!” burst from Eve, wu’th a fervor 
and frankness that set all reserve, wdiether of womanly training or 
of natural timidity, at defiance, 

” Miss Effingham!— dearest Miss Effingham — Eve, my own Eve, 
what am I to infer from this generous warmth? Do not mislead me! 
1 can bear my solitary misery, can brave the sufferings of an isolated 
existence; but 1 could not live under the disappointments of such a 
hope, a hope fairly quickened by a clear expression from your lips.” 

‘‘ l ou teach me the importance of caution, Powis, and we will 
now return to your history, and to that confidence of which 1 shall 
not again prove a faithless repository. For the present at least, 1 
beg that you will forget all else.” 

“A command so kindly— so encouragingly given— do 1 offend, 
dearest Miss Effingham?” Eve, for the second time in her life, 


HOME AS FOUNT). 


225 

placed her own light arm and beautiful hand through the arm of 
Paul, discovering a bewitching but modest reliance on his worth 
and truth, by the very manner in which she did this simple and 
every-day act, while she said more cheerfully: 

“ You forget the substance of the command, at the very moment 
you would have me suppose you most disposed to obey it.” 

‘‘ Well, then. Miss Effingham, jmu shall be more implicitly minded. 
Why my father left my mother so soon after their union, 1 never 
knew. It would seem that they lived together but a few months, 
though 1 have the proud consolation of knowing that my mother 
was blameless. For years 1 suffered the misery of doubt on a point 
that is ever the most tender to man — a distrust of his own mother; 
but all this has been nappily, blessedly cleared up, during my late 
visit to England. It is true that Lady Dunluce was my mother’s 
sister, and as such might have been lenient to her failings; but a let- 
ter from my father, that was written only a month before my 
mother’s death, leaves no doubt not only of her blamelessness as a 
wife, but bears ample testimony to the sweetness of her disposition. 
This letter is a precious document for a son to possess. Miss Effing- 
ham!” 

Eve made no answer; but Paul fancied that he felt another gentle 
pressure of the hand, which, until then, had rested so lightly on his 
own arm, that he scarcely dared to move the latter, lest he might 
lose the precious consciousness of its presence. 

” 1 have other letters from my father to my mother,” the young 
mgn continued, ” but none that are so cheering to my heart as this". 
From their general tone, 1 cannot persuade myself that he ever truly 
loved her. It is a cruel thing, Miss Effingham, for a man to deceive 
a woman on a point like that!” 

“Cruel, indeed,” said Eve, firmly. “Death itself were prefer- 
able to such a delusion.” 

“ 1 think my father deceived himself as well as my mother; for 
there is a strange incoherence and a want of distinctness in some of 
his letters, that caused feelings, keen as mine naturally were on such 
a subject, to distrust his affection from the first.” 

“ Was your mother rich?” Eve asked innocently, for, an heiress 
lierself, her vigilance had early been directed to that great motive of 
deception and dishonesty. 

“ Not in the least. She had little beside her high lineage and her 
beauty. I have her picture, which sufficiently proves the latter ; 
had, 1 ought rather to say, for it was her miniature of which 1 was 
robberVby the Arabs, as you may remember, and 1 have not seen it 
since. In the way of money, my mother had barely the competency 
of a gentlewoman; nothing more.” 

The pressure on Paul was more palpable, as he spoke of the min- 
iature; and he ventured to touch his companion’s arm in order to 
give it a surer hold of his own. 

“ Mr. Powis was not mercenary, then, and it is a great deal,” said 
Eve, speaking as if she was scarcely conscious that she spoke at all. 

“ Mr. Powis! He was everything that was noble and disinter- 
ested. A more generous or a less selfish man never existed than 
Francis Powis.” 

8 


22G 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


“1 thought you never knew your father personally !” exclaimed 
Eve, in surprise. 

“ Nor did 1. But you are in error, supposing that my father’s 
name was Powis, when it was Assheton.’ 

Paul then explained the manner in which he had been adopted, 
while still a child, by a gentleman called Powis, whose name he had 
taken on finding himself deserted by his own natural parent, and to 
whose fortune he had succeeded on the death of his voluntary pro- 
tector. 

• 

“ 1 bore the name of Assheton until Mr. Powis took me to France, 
when he advised me to assume his own, which 1 did the more read- 
ily as he thought he had ascertained that my father was dead, and 
that he had bequeathed the whole of a very considerable estate to 
his nephews and nieces, making no allusion to me in his will, and 
seemingly anxious even to deny his marriage; at least he passed 
amongliis acquaintances for a. bachelor to his dying day.” 

” There is something so unusual and inexplicable in all this, Mr. 
Powis, that it strikes me you have been to blame in not inquiring 
more closely into the circumstances than, by your own account, i 
should think had been done.” 

” For a long time, for many bitter years, 1 was alraid to inquire, 
lest 1 should learn something injurious to a mother’s name. Then 
there was the arduous and confined service of my profession, which 
kept me in distant seas; and the last journey and painful indisposi- 
tion of my excellent benefactor prevented even the wish to inquire 
after my own family. The offended pride of Mr. Powis, who was 
justly hurt at the cavalier manner in which my father’s relatives met 
iris advances, aided in alienating me from that portion of my rela- 
tives, and put a stop to all additional proSers of intercourse from me. 
They even affected to doubt the fact that my father had ever mar- 
ried.” 

“ But of that you had proof?” Eve earnestly asked. 

” Unanswerable. My aunt Dunluce was present at the ceremony, 
and 1 possess the certificate given to my mother by the clergyman 
who officiated. Is it not strange, Miss Effingham, that with all these 
circumstances in favor of my legitimacy, even Lady Dunluce ana 
her family, until lately, had doubts of tire fact?” 

” That is indeed unaccountable, your aunt having witnessed the 
ceremony.” 

‘‘ Very true; but some circumstances, a little aided, perhaps, by the • 
strong desire of her husband. General Ducie, to obtain the revival 
of a barony that was in abeyance, and of which she would be the 
only heir, assuming that my rights were invalid, inclined her to be- 
lieve that my father was already married when he entered into the 
solemn contract with my mother. But from that curse, too, I have 
been happily relieved.” 

” PoorPowisi” said Eve, with a sympathy that her voice express- 
ed more clearly even than her words; ” you have, indeed, suffered 
cruelly, for one so young.” 

” 1 have learned to bear it, dearest Miss Effingham, and have stood 
so long a solitary and isolated being, one in whom none have taken 
any interest — ” 


HOME AS FOUHD. 227 

“ Nay, say not that; we, at least, have always felt an interest in 
you — have always esteemed you, and now have learned to—’' 

“ Learned lo — ?” 

“ Love you,” said Eve, with a steadiness that afterward astonished 
herself; but she felt that a being so placed was entitled to be treated 
with a frankness different from the reserve that it is usual for her sex 
to observe on similar occasions. 

“Love!” cried Paul, dropping her arm. ” Miss Effingham ! — 
Eve— but that we!” 

” 1 mean my dear father — Cousin Jack— myself.” 

” Such a feeling will not heal a wound like mine. A love that is 
shared with even such men as your excellent father and your worthy 
cousin will not make me happy. But why should I, unowned, heal- 
ing a name lo which 1 have no legal title, and virtually without rel- 
atives, aspire lo one like you?” 

The windings of the path had brought them near a window of the 
house, whence a stream of strong light gleamed upon the sweet 
countenance of Eve, as raising her eyes to those of her companion, 
with a face bathed in tears, and flushed with natural feeling and 
modesty, the struggle between which even heightened her loveliness, 
she smiled an encourageruent that it w^as impossible to misconstrue. 

” Can 1 believe my senses? Will you— do you — can you listen to 
the suit of one like me?” the young man exclaimed, as he hurried 
his companion past the window, lest some interruption might de- 
stroy his hopes. 

Is there any sufficient reason why 1 should not, Powis?” 

‘‘ Nothing but my unfortunate situation in respect to my family, 
my comparative poverty, and my general unworlhiness. ” 

“ i^our unfortunate situation in respect to your relatives w’ould, if 
anything, be a new and dearer tie with us; 3 mur comparative poverty 
is merely comparative, and can be of no account where there is suffi- 
cient already; and as for your general unworthiness, 1 fear it will 
find more than an offset in that of the girl you have so rashly chosen 
from the rest of the world.” 

” Eve— dearest Eve,” said Paul, seizing both her hands, and stop- 
ping her at the entrance of some shrubbery that densely shaded the 
path, and where the little light that fell from the stars enabled him 
still to trace her features — “you will not leave me in doubt on a 
subject of this natuie— am I really so blessed?” 

‘‘If accepting the faith and affection of a heart that is wholly 
yours, Powis, can make you happy, jmur sorrows will be at an 
end—” 

‘‘ But your father?” said the young man, almost breathless in his 
eagerness to know all. 

‘‘ Is here to confirm what his daughter has just declared,” said 
Mr. Effincrham, coming out of the shrubbery beyond them, and lay- 
ing a hand kindly on Paul’s shoulder. ‘‘ To find that you so well 
understand each other, Powis, removes fronr my mind one of the 
greatest anxieties 1 have ever experienced. My Cousin John, as he 
was bound to do, has made me acquainted with all you have told 
him of your past life, and there remains nothing further to be re- 
vealed. ’ \V e have known you tor ycars^ and receive you into our 


22S 


HOME AS FOUKH. 


family with as free a welcome as we could receive any precious boon 
from Providence.” 

“Mr. Effingham!— dear sir,” said Paul, almost gasping between 
surprise and rapture — “ this is indeed beyond all my hopes; and this 
generous frankness, too, in your lovely daughter — ” 

Paul’s hands had been transferred to those of the father, he knew 
not how, but releasing them hurriedly he now turned in quest of 
Eve again, and found she had fled. In the short interval between 
the address of her father and the words of Paul she had found means 
to disappear, leaving the gentlemen together. The young man 
would have followed, but tlie cooler head of Mr. Effingham perceiv- 
ing that the occasion was favorable to a private conversation with 
his accepted son-in-law, and quite as unfavorable to one, or at least 
to a very rational one, between the lovers, he quietly took the young 
man’s arm, and led him toward a more private walk. There halt 
an hour of confidential discourse calmed the feelings of both, and 
rendered Paul Powis one of the happiest of human beings. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

You shall do marvelous wisely, good Reynaldo, 

Before you visit him, to make inquiry 
Of his behavior. 

Hamlet, 

Ann Sidley was engaged among the dresses of Eve, as she loved 
to be, although Annette held her taste in too low estimation ever to 
permit her to apply a needle, or even to fit a robe to the beautiful 
form that was to wear it, when our heroine glided into the room, 
and sank upon a sofa. Eve was too much absorbed with her own 
feelings to observe the presence of her quiet, unobtrusive old nurse, 
and too much accustomed to her care and sympathy to heed it. had 
it been seen. For a moment she remained, her face still suffused 
with blushes, her hands lying before her folded, her eyes fixed on 
the ceiling, and then the pent emotions found an outlet in a flood 
of tears. 

Poor Ann could not have felt more shocked had she heard of any 
unexpected calamity, than she was at this sudden outbreaking of 
feeling in her child. She went to her, and bent over her with the 
solicitude of a mother, as she inquired into the causes of her appar- 
ent sorrow. 

“Tell me. Miss Eve, and it will relieve your mind,” said the 
faithful woman; “ your dear mother had such feelings sometimes, 
and 1 never dared to question her about them; but you are my 
own child, and nothing can grieve you without grieving me.” 

The eyes of Eve were brilliant, her face continued to be suffused, 
and the smile which she gave through her tears was so bright as to 
leave her poor attendant in deep perplexity as to the cause of a gush 
of feeling that was very unusual in one of the other’s legulated 
mind. 

“ It is not grief, dear Nanny,” Eve at length muruaured, “ any- 
thing but that! 1 am not unhappy. Oh! no"; as far from unhappi- 
ness as possible.” 


HOME AS FOU^ID. 


229 


“ God be praised it is so, ma’am! 1 was afraid that this affair of 
the English gentleman and Miss Grace might not prove agreeable to 
you, tor he has not behaved as handsomely as he might in that 
transaction.” 

“ And why not, my poor Nanny? 1 have neithei claim, nor the 
wish to possess a claim, on Sir George Templemore. His selection 
of my cousin has given me sincere satisfaction, rather than pain; 
were he a countryman of our own, 1 should say unalloyed satisfac- 
tion, for 1 firmly believe he will strive to make her happy.” 

Nanny now looked at her young mistress, then at the floor; at 
her young mistress again, and afterward at a rocket that was sailing 
athwart the sky. Her eyes, however, returned to those of Eve, and 
encouraged by the bright beam of happiness that was glowing in 
the countenance she so much loved, she ventured to say: 

“ If Mr. Powis were a more presuming gentleman than he is, 
ma’am — ” 

” You mean a less modest, Nanny,” said Eve, perceiving that her 
nurse paused. 

” Yes, ma’am — one that thought more of himself, and less of 
other people, is what 1 wish to say.” 

‘‘ And were this the case?” 

” I might think he would find the heart to say what 1 know he 
feels.” 

” And did he find the heart to say what you know he feels, what 
docs Ann Sidley think should be my answer?” 

“ Oh, ma’am, 1 know it would be just as it ought to be. I can 
not' repeat what ladies say on such occasions, bat 1 know that it is 
what makes the hearts of the gentlemen leap for joy.” 

There are occasions in which woman can hardly dispense with 
the sympathy of woman. Eve loved her father most tenderly; had 
more than the usual confidence in him, for she had never known a 
mother; but had the present conversation been with him, notwith- 
standing all her reliance on his affection, her nature would have 
shrunk from pouring out her feelings as freely as she might have 
done with her other parent, had not death deprived her of such a 
blessing. Uetween our heroine and Ann Sidlej^ on the other hand, 
there existed a confidence of a nature so peculiar, as to require a 
word of explanation before we exhibit its effects. In all that re- 
lated to physical wants, Ann had been a mother, or even more than 
a mother, to Eve, and this alone had induced great personal inde- 
pendence in the one, and a sort of supervisory care in the other, that 
liad brought her to fancy she was responsible for the bodily health 
and well-doing of her charge. But this was not all. Nanny had 
been tne repository of Eve’s childish griefs, the confidante of her 
girlish secrets; and though the years of the latter soon caused her to 
be placed under the management of those who were better qualified 
to store her mind, this communication never ceased; the high-toned 
and educated young woman reverting with unabated affection, and 
a reliance that nothing could shake, to the long tried tenderness of 
the being who had watched over her infanc3\ The effect, of such 
an intimacy was often amiusing; the one party bringing to the 
conferences a mind filled with the knowledge suited to her sex and 
station, habits that had been formed in the best circles of Christen- 


230 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


dom, and tastes that had been acquired in schools of high reputation ; 
and the other, little more than her single-hearted love, a lidelity 
that ennobled her nature, and a simplicity that betokened pcrtect 
purity of thought. Nor was this extraordinary confidence without 
its advantages to Eve; lor, thrown so early among the artificial and 
calculating it served to keep her own ingenuousness of character 
active, and prevented that cold, selfish, and unattractive sophistica- 
tion, that mere women of fashion are apt to fall into, from their 
isolated and factitious mode of existence. When Eve, therefore, 
put the questions to her nurse that have already been mentioned, it 
was more with a real wish to know how the latter would view a 
choice on which her own mind was so fully made up, than any silly 
trilling on a subject that engrossed so much of her best affections. 

“ But you have not told me, dear Nanny,” she continued, ” what 
you would have that answer be. Ought I, for instance, ever to quit 
my beloved father?” 

“ What necessity would there be for that, ma’am? Mr. Powis 
has no home of his own; and, lor that matter, scarcely any coun- 
try—” 

” How can you know this, Nanny?” demanded Eve, with the 
jealous sensitiveness of a young love. 

” Why, Miss Eve, his man says this much, and he has lived with 
him long enough to know it, if he had a home. Now, 1 seldom 
sleep without looking back at the day, and often have my thoughts 
turned to Sir George Templemore and Mr. Powis; and when 1 have 
remembered that the first had a house and a home, and that the last 
had neither, it has always seemed to me that he ought to be the 
one.” 

” And then, in all this matter, you have thought of convenience, 
and vvhat might be agreeable to others, rather than of me.” 

” Miss Eve!” 

” Nay, dearest Nanny, forgive me; 1 know your last thought, in 
everything, is for yourself. But, surely; the mere circumstance 
that he had no home, ought not to be a sufficient reason for. select- 
ing any man lor a husband. With most women it would be an ob- 
jection.” 

*‘l pretend to know very little of these feelings. Miss Eve. 1 
have been wooed, 1 acknowledge; and once 1 do think 1 might have 
been tempted to marry, had it not been tor a partieular circum- 
stance.” 

‘‘ lou! You marry, Ann Sidleyl” exclaimed Eve, to whom the 
bare idea seemed as odd and unnatural as that her own father 
should forget her mother and take a second wife. “ This is alto- 
gether new, and I should be glad to know what the lucky circum- 
stance was which prevented what, to me, might have proved so 
great a calamity.” 

” Why, ma’am, 1 said to myself, what does a woman do who 
marries? She vows to quit all else to go with her husband, and 
love him before father and mother, and all other living beings on 
earth— is it not so. Miss Eve?” 

“ 1 believe it is so, indeed, Nanny; nay, 1 am quite certain it is 
so,” Eve answered, the color deepening on her cheek, as she gave 
this opinion to her old nurse, with the inward consciousness that 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


231 


she had just experienced some of the happiest moments of her life, 
through the admission of a passion that thus overshadowed all the 
natural aflections. “ It is, truly, as you say.” 

“ Well, ma’am, I investigated my feelings, 1 believe they call it, 
and after a proper trial, 1 found that 1 loved you so much better 
than any one else, that 1 could not, in conscience, make the vows.” 

‘‘ Dearest Kanny! my kind, good, faithful old nurse! let me hold 
you in my arms; and 1, selfish, thoughtless, heartless girl, would 
forget the circumstance that would be most likely to keep us to- 
gether, for the remainder of our lives! Hist! there is a tap at the 
door. It is Mrs. Bloomfield; I know her light step. Admit her, 
my kind Ann, and leave us together.” 

The bright searching eye of Mrs. Bloomfield was riveted on her 
young friend, as she advanced into the room; and her smile, usually 
so gay and sometimes ironical, was now thoughtful and kind. 

‘‘ Well, Miss Effingham,” slie cried, in a manner tnat her looks 
contradicted, ” am 1 to condole with you, or to congratulate? For 
a more sudden or miraculous change did 1 never before witness in 
a young lady, though whether it be for the better or the worse — 
These are ominous words, too — for ‘ better or worse, for richer or 
poorer ’ — ” 

” You are in fine spirits this evening, my dear Mrs. Bloomfield, 
and appear to have entered into the gayeties of the Fun of Fire with 
all your — ” 

‘VMight, will be a homely, but an expressive word. Y^our Tem- 
pleton Fun of Fire is fiery tun, for it has cost us something like a 
general conflagration. Mrs. Hawker lias been near a downfall, like 
your great namesake, by a serpent’s coming too near her dress; one 
barn, 1 hear, has actually been in a blaze, and Sir George Temple- 
more’s heart is in cinders. Mr. dohu Effingham has been telling 
me that he should not have been a bachelor had there been two Mrs. 
Bloomfields in the world, and Mr. Fowls looks like a rafter dug out 
of Hercidaneum, nothing but coal.” 

” And what occasions this pleasantry?” asked Eve, so composed 
in manner that her friend was momentarily deceived. 

Mrs. Bloomfield took a seat on the sofa, by the side of our heroine, 
and regarding her steadily for near a minute, she continued — 

” Hypocrisy and Eve Effingham can have little in common, and 
my ears must have deceived me.” 

” Y’our ears, dear Mrs. Bloomfield?” 

” My ears, dear Miss Effingham. 1 very well know the character 
of an eavesdropper, but if gentlemen will make passionate declara- 
tions in the walks of a garden, with nothing but a little shrubbery 
between their ardent declarations and the curiosity of those who 
may happen to be passing, they must expect to be overheard.” 

Eve’s color had gradually increased as her friend proceeded, and 
when the other ceased speaking, as bright a bloom glowed on her 
countenance as bad shone there when she fiist entered the room. 

” May 1 ask the meaning of all this?” she said, with an effort to 
appear calm. 

‘‘ Certainly, my dear; and you shall also know the feelings that 
prompt it, as well as the meaning,” returned Mrs. Bloomfield, 
kindly taking Eve’s hand in a way to show that she did not mean to 


HOME AS FOUND. 


232 

trifle further on a subject that was of so much moment to her young 
friend. “ Mr. John Ettingham and myself were star-gazing at a 
point where two walks approach each other, just as you and Mr. 
Powis were passing in the adjoining path. Without absolutely 
stopping our ears, it was quite impossible not to hear a' portion of 
your conversation. AVe both tried to behave honorably; for I 
coughed, and jour kinsman actually hemmed, but we were un- 
heeded." 

“Coughed and hemmed!” repeated Eve, in greater confusion 
than ever. “ There must be some mistake, dear Mrs. Bloomfleld, 
as 1 remember to have heard no such signals.” 

“ Quite likely, my love, for there was a time when I too had ears 
for only one voice; but you can have affidavits to the fact, d la, mode 
de New England, if you require them. Do not mistake my motive, 
nevertheless. Miss Effingham, which is anything but vulgar curi- 
osity ” — here Mrs. Bloomfield looked so kind and friendly that Eve 
took both her hands and pressed them to her heart — “ jmu are 
motherless; without even a single female connection of a suitable 
age to consult with on such an occasion, and fathers after all are 
but men — ” 

“ Mine is as kind, and delicate, and tender, as any woman can 
be, Mrs. Bloomfield.” 

“ 1 believe it all, though he may not be quite as quick-sighted in 
an affair of this nature. Am 1 at liberty to speak to you as if 1 
were an elder sister?” 

“ Speak, Mrs. Bloomfield, as frankly as you please, but leave me 
the mistress of my answers.” 

“It is, then, as 1 suspected,” said Mrs. Bloomfield, in a sort of 
musing manner; “ the men have been won over, and this young 
creature has absolutely been left without a protector in the most 
important moment of her life.” 

“ Mrs. Bloomfield! What does this mean? What can it mean?” 

“ It means merely general principles, child; that your father and 
cousin have been parties concerned, instead of vigilant sentinels; 
and with all their pretended care, that you have been left to grope 
your way in the darkness of female uncertainty, with one of the 
most pleasing young men in the country constantly before you, to 
help the obscurity.’ 

It is a dreadful moment when we are taught to doubt the worth 
of those we love; and Eve became pale as death as she listened to 
the words of her friend. Once before, on the occasion of Paul’s 
return to England, she had felt a pang of that sort, though reflec- 
tion, and a calm revision of all his acts and words since they first 
met in Germany, had enabled her to get the better of indecision, 
and when she first saw him on the mountain, nearly every unpleas- 
ant apprehension and distrust had been dissipated by an effort of 
pure reason. His own explanations had cleared up the unpleasant 
affair, and from that moment she had regarded him altogether 
with the eyes of a confiding partiality. The speech of Mrs. Bloom- 
field now sounded like words of doom to her, and for an instant 
her friend was frightened with the effects of her own imperfect 
communication. Until that moment Mrs. Bloomfield had formed 
no just idea of the extent to which the feelings of Eve were inter- 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


233 


ested in Paul, for she had but an imperfect knowledge of their earl}’’ 
association in Europe, and she sincerely repented having introduced 
the subject at all. It was loo late to retreat, however, and first 
folding Eve in her arms, and kissing her cold forehead, she has- 
tened to repair a part, at least, of the mischief she had done. 

“ My words have been too strong, 1 fear,” she said, “ but such is 
my general horror of the manner in which the young: of our sex, 
in this country, are abandoned to the schemes of the designing and 
selfish of the other, that 1 am, perhaps, too sensitive when 1 see any 
one that 1 love thus exposed. You are known, my dearrto be one 
of the richest heiresses of the country; and 1 blush to say that no 
accounts of European society that we have, make fortune-hunting a 
more regular occupation there than it has got to be here.” 

The paleness left Eve’s face, and a look of slight displeasure suc- 
ceeded. 

“ Mr. Powis is no fortune-hunter, Mrs. Bloomfield,” she said, 
steadily; “his whole conduct for three years has been opposed to 
such a character; and then, though absolutely not rich, perhaps, 
he has a gentleman’s income, and is removed from the necessity of 
being reduced to such an act of baseness.” 

‘‘ 1 perceive my error, but it is now too late to retreat. 1 do not 
say that Mr\ Powis is a fortune-hunter, but there are circumstances 
connected with his history that you ought at least to know, and 
that immediately. 1 have chosen to speak to you, rather than to 
speak to your father, because I thought you might like a female 
confidante on such occasion, in preference even to your excellent 
natural protector. The idea of Mrs. Hawker occurred to me on ac- 
count of her age; but 1 did not feel authorized to communicate to 
her a secret of which 1 had myself become so accidentally pos- 
sessed.” 

” 1 appreciate your motive fully, dearest Mrs. Bloomfield,” said 
Eve, smiling with all her native sweetness, and greatly relieved, for 
she now began to think that too keen a sensitiveness on the subject 
of Paul had unnecessarily alarmed her, ” and beg there may be no 
reserves between us. It you know a reason why Mi. Powis should 
not be received as a suitor, I entreat you to mention it.” 

‘‘ Is he Mr. Powis at all?” 

Again Eve smiled, to Mrs. Bloomfield’s great surprise, for as the 
latter had put the question with sincere reluctance, she was aston- 
ished at the coolness with which it was received, 

” He is not Mr. Powis legally, perhaps, though he might be, but 
that he dislikes the publicity of an application to the legislature. 
His paternal name is Assheton.” 

“You know his history, then?” 

“ There has been no reserve on the part of Mr. Powis; least of 
all, any deception.” 

Mrs, Bloomfield appeared perplexed, even distressed; and there 
was a brief space, during which her mind was undecided as to the 
course she ought to take. That she had committed an error by 
attempting a consultation, in a matter of the heart, with one of her 
own sex, after the affections were engaged, she discovered when it 
Was too late; but she prized Eve’s friendship too much, and had too 


234 


HOME AS FOUND. 


just a sense of wliat was due to lierselt, to leave the affair where it 
was, or wdlhout clearing up her own unasked agency in it. 

“1 rejoice to learn this,” she said, as soon as her doubts had 
ended, ‘‘for frankness, while it is one of the safest, is one of the 
most beautiful traits inhuman character; but beautiful though it 
be, it is one that the other sex uses least to our own.” 

‘‘ Is our own too ready to use it to the other?” 

‘‘ Perhaps not; it might be better for both parties were there less 
deception practiced during the period of courtship, generally: but 
as this is hopeless, and might destroy some of the most pleasing il- 
lusions of life, we will not enter into a treatise on the frauds of 
Cupid. ISlow to my own confessions, which 1 make all the more 
willingly, because 1 know they are uttered to the ear of one of a 
forgiving temperament, and who is disposed to view even my own 
follies favorably.” 

The kind but painful smile of Eve assured the speaker she was 
not mistaken, and she continued, after taking time to read the ex- 
pression of the countenance of her j'oung friend — 

” In common with all of New York, that town of babbling misses, 
who prattle as water flows, without consciousness or effort, and of 
whiskered masters, who fancy Broadway the w'orld, and the flirta- 
tions of miniature drawing-rooms human nature, 1 believed, on 
your return from Europe, that an accepted suitor followed in your 
train in the person of Sir George Templemore.” 

” Nothing in my deportment, or in that of Sir George, or in that 
of any of my family, could justly have given rise to such a no- 
tion,” said Eve, quickly. 

” Justly! What has justice, or truth, or even probability, to do 
with a report of which love and matrimony are the themes? Do 
you not know society better than to fancy tnis improbability, child?” 

‘‘ 1 know that our own sex would better consult their own dignity 
and respectability, my dear Mrs. Bloomfield, if they talked less of 
such matters; and that they would be more apt to acquire the hab- 
its of good taste, not to say of good principles, if they confined their 
strictures more to things and sentiments than they do, and med- 
dled less with persons. ” 

‘‘ And pray, is there no tittle-tattle, no scandal, no commenting on 
one’s neighbors, in other civilized nations besides this?” 

“Unquestionably; though 1 believe, as a rule, it is everywhere 
thought to be inherently vulgar, and a proof of low associations.” 

“in that we are perfectly of a mind; for if there be anything 
that betrays a consciousness of inferiority, it is our rendering others 
of so much obvious importance to ourselves as to make thv^m the 
subjects of our constant conversation. We may speak of virtues, 
for therein we pay a homage to that which is good; but w’^hen we 
come to dwell on personal faults, it is rather a proof that we have a 
silent conviction of the superiority of the subject of our comments 
to ourselves, either in character, talents, social position, or some- 
thing else that is deemed essential, than of our distaste for his fail- 
ings. W ho, for instance, talks scandal of his grocer or of his shoe- 
maker? No, no, our pride forbids this; we always make our bet- 
ters the subjects of our strictures by preference, taking up with our 
equals only when we can get none of a higher class.” 


HOME AS EOUHD. 235 

“ This quite reconciles me to having been given to Sir George 
Templeinore by the world of .New lork,” said Eve, smiling. 

“And well it may, tor they who have prattled of your engage- 
ment, have done so principally because they are incapable of main- 
taining a conversation on anything else. But, all this time 1 fear 1 
stand accused in your mind of having given advice unasked, and of 
feeling an alarm in an affair that affected others instead of myself, 
which is the very sin that we lay at the door of our worthy Manhat- 
tan ese. In common witli all around me, then, 1 fancied 8ir George 
Templemore an accepted lover, and, by habit, had got to associate 
you together in my pictures. On my arrival here, however, 1 will 
confess that Mr. Powis, whom you will remember 1 had never seen 
before, struck me as much the most dangerous man. Shall I own 
all my absurdity?” 

“ Even to the smallest shade.” 

“ tV'ell, then, 1 confess to having supposed that, while the excel- 
lent father believed you were in a fair way to become Lady Tem- 
plemore, the equally excellent daughter thought the other suitor in- 
finitely the most agreeable person.” 

“ What! in contempt of a betrothal?” 

“ Of course 1 at once ascribed that part of the report to the usual 
embellishments. We do not like to be deceived in our calculations, 
or to discover that even our gossip has misled us. In pure resent- 
ment at my own previous delusion, 1 began to criticise this Mr. 
Powis — ” 

“ Criticise, Mrs. Bloomfield 1” 

“ To find fault with him, my dear; to try to think he was not just 
the handsomest and most engaging young man I had ever seen; to 
imagine what he ought to be, in place of what he was; and among 
other things, to inquire who he was.” 

“ You did not think proper to ask that question of any of us,” 
said Eve, gravely. 

“ 1 did not; for 1 discovered by instinct, or intuition, or conject- 
ure — they mean pretty much the same thing, 1 believe — that there 
was a mystery about him; something that even his Templeton 
friends did not quite understand, and a lucky thought occurred of 
making my inquiries of another person.” 

“ They were answered satisfactorily,” said Eve, looking up at 
her friend with the artless confidence that marks her sex, when the 
affections have got the mastery of reason. 

“ Cost, cod. Bloomfield has a brother who is in the navy, as you 
know, and i happened to remember that he had once spoken of an 
officer of the name of Powis, who had performed a clever thing in 
the West Indies, when they were employed together against the pi- 
rates. 1 wrote to him one of my usual letters, that are compounded 
of all things in nature and art, and took an occasion to allude to a 
cretain Mr. Paul Powis, with a general remark that he bad for- 
merly served, togellier with a particular inquiry it he knew any- 
thing about him. All this, no doubt, you think very officious; but 
believe me, dear Eve, where there was as much interest as 1 felt and 
feel in you, it was very natural.” 

“ So far from entertaining resentment, 1 am grateful for your con- 


236 


HOME AS EOUKH. 


cern, epecially as 1 know it was manifested cautiously, and without 
any unpleasant allusions to third persons.” 

” In that respect 1 believe 1 did pretty well. Tom Bloomfield — 1 
beg his pardon, Captain Bloomfield, for so he calls himself at pres- 
ent — knows Mr. Fowls well; or, rather did know him, for they 
have not met for years, and he speaks of his personal qualities and 
professional merit highly, but takes occasion to remark that there 
was some mystery connected with his birth, as before he joined the 
service he understood he was called Assheton, and at a later day, 
Powis, and this without any public law, or public avowal of a mo- 
tive. Now, it struck me that Bve Effingham ought not to be per- 
mitted to form a connection with a man so unpleasantly situated, 
without being apprised of the fact. 1 wa waiting for a proper oc- 
casion to do this ungrateful office myself, when accident made me 
acquainted with what has passed this evening, and perceiving that 
there was no time to lose, 1 came hither, more led by interest in 
you, my dear, perhaps, than by discretion.” 

” 1 thank you sincerely for this kind concern in my welfare, dear 
Mrs. Bloomfield, and give you full credit for the motive. Will you 
permit me to inquire how much you know of that which passed this 
evening?” 

” Simply that Mr. Powis is desperately in love— a declaration that 
1 take is always dangerous to the peace of mind of a young woman, 
when it comes from a very engaging younir man.” 

‘‘ And my part of the dialogue — ” Eve blushed to the eyes as she 
asked this question, though she made a great effort to appear calm 
— ‘‘my answer?” 

‘* There was too much woman in me— of true, genuine, loyal 
native woman, Miss Effingham, to listen to that, had there been an 
opportunity. We were but a moment near enough to hear anything, 
though that moment sufficed to let iis know the state of feelings of 
the gentleman. 1 ask no confidences, my dear Eve, and now that 1 
have made my explanations, lame though they be, 1 will kiss you 
and repair to the drawing-room, where we shall both be soon missed. 
Forgive me, if 1 have seemed impertinent in my interferences, and 
continue to ascribe it to its true motive.” 

“ Stop, Mrs. Bloomfield, 1 entreat, for a single moment; 1 wish to 
say a wora before we part. As you have been accidentally made 
acquainted with Mr. Powis’s sentiments toward me, it is no more 
than just that you should know the nature of mine toward him — ” 

Eve paused involuntarily, for though 'she had commenced her 
explanation with a firm intention to do justice to Paul, the basht ill- 
ness of her sex held her tongue-tied at the very moment her desire 
to speak was the strongest. An effort conquered the weakness, and 
the warm-hearted, generous-minded girl succeeded in comnianding 
her voice. 

‘‘ I cannot allow you to go away with the impression that there is 
a shade of any sort on the conduct of Mr. Powis,” she said. ‘‘ 8o 
far from desiring to profit by the accidents that have placed it in his 
power to render us such essential service, he has never spoken of his 
love until this evening, and then under circumstances in which feel 
ing, naturally, perhaps 1 might say uncontrollably, got the ascend- 
ency.” 


HOME AS FOUHD. 237 

“ 1 believe it all, for 1 feel certaiu Eve Effingham would not be- 
stow her heart heedlessly.” 

” Heart! Mrs, Bloomfield!” 

“ Heart, my dear; and now I insist on the subject being dropped, 
at least for the present. iL our decision is probably not yet made— 
j-^ou are not yet an hour in possession of your suitor’s secret, and 
prudence demands deliberation. 1 shall hope to see you in the draw- 
ing-room, and until then, adieu.” 

Mrs. Bloomfield signed for silence, and quitted the room with the 
same light tread as that with which she had entered it. 


' CHAPTER XXV. 

To show virtue her ovti feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and 
body of the time, his form and pressure.— S hakespeare. 

When Mrs. Bloomfield entered the drawing-room, she found 
nearly the whole party assembled. The Fun of Fire had ceased, 
and the rockets no longer gleamed athwart the sky; but the blaze ot 
artificial light within was more than a substitute for that which had 
so lately existed without. 

Mr, Effingham and Paul were conversing by themselves in a 
window-seat, while John Effingham, Mrs. Hawker, and Mr. Howel 
were in an animated discussion on a sofa; Mr. Wenham had also 
joined the party, and was occupied with Captain Ducie, though not 
so much so as to prevent occasional glances at the trio just men- 
tioned. Sir George Teruplemore and Grace Van Cortlandt were 
walking together in the great hall, and were visible through the open 
door as they passed and repassed. 

“ 1 am glad of your appearance among us, Mrs. Bloomfield,” said 
John Effingham, ‘‘ for certainly more Anglomania never existed 
than that which my good friend Howel manifests this evening, and 
1 have hopes that your eloquence may persuade him out of some of 
those notions, on which my logic has fallen like seed scattered by 
the wayside.” 

” 1 can have little hopes of success where Mr. John Effingham has 
failed.” 

” 1 am far from being certain ot that; for, somehow, Howel iias 
taken up the notion that 1 have got a grudge against England, and 
he listens to all I say with distrust and distaste.’^ 

“Mr. John uses strong language habitually, ma’am,” cried Mr. 
Howel, ‘‘ and you will make some allowance for a vocabulary that 
has no very mild terms in it; though, to be frank, 1 do confess that 
he seems prejudiced on the subject of that great nation.” 

” What is the point in immediate controversy, gentlemen?” asked 
Mrs. Bloomfield, taking a seat. 

” Why, here is a review of a late American work, ma’am, and I 
insist that the author is skinned alive, whereas Mr. John insists that 
the reviewer exposes only his own rage, the work having a national 
character, and running counter to the reviewer’s feelings and in- 
terest.” ' 

” Nay, 1 protest against this statement of the case, for 1 affirm 
that the review exposes a great deal more than his rage, since his 


238 


HOilE AS FOUK'D. 


imbecility, ignorance, and disbonesty are quite as apparent as any- 
thing else.” 

‘‘1 have read the article,” said Mrs. Bloomfield, after glancing 
her eye at the periodicnl, ” and 1 must say thatl take sides with Mr. 
John Effingham in his opinion of ifs character.” 

” But jmu do not perceive, ma’am, that this is the idol of the 
nobility and gentry; the work that is more in favor with the people 
of consequence in England than any other? Bishops are said to 
write for itl” 

” 1 know it is a work expressly established to sustain one of the 
most factitious political systems that ever existed, and that it sacri- 
fices every high quality to attain its end.” 

” Mrs. Bloomfield, you amaze me! The first writers of Great 
Britain figure in its pages.” 

” That 1 must question, in the first place; but even if it were so, 
it would be but a shallow mystification. Although a man of char- 
acter might write one article in a work of thkj nature, it does not 
follow that a man of no character does not write the next. The 
principles of the communications of a periodical are as different as 
their talents.” 

” But the editor is a pledge for all. The editor of this Review 
is an eminent writer himself.” 

” An eminent writer may be a very great knave in the first place, 
and one fact is worth a thousand conjectures in such a matter. But 
we do not know that there is any responsible editor to works of this 
nature at all, for there are no names given in the title-page, and noth- 
ing is more common than vague declarations of a want of this very 
responsibility. But if 1 can prove to you that this article can not 
have been written by a man of common honesty, Mr. Ilowel, what 
will you then say to the responsibility of your editor?” 

‘‘ In that case 1 shall be compelled to admit that he had no con- 
nection with it.” 

” Anything in preference to giving up the beloved idol!” said John 
Effingham, laughing. ” Why not add at once that he is as great a 
knave as the writer himself? I am glad, however, that Tom Ilowel 
has fallen into such good hands, Mrs, Bloomfield, and 1 devoutly 
pray you may not spare him.” 

We have said that Mrs. Bloomfield had a rapid perception of things 
and principles that amounted almost to intuition. She had read the 
article in question, and as she glanced her eyes through its pages, 
had detected its fallacies and falsehoods in almost every sentence. 
Indeed, they had not been put together with ordinary skill, the writer 
having evidently presumed on the easiness of the class of readers 
who generally swallowed his round assertions, and were so clumsily 
done, that any one who had not the faith to move mountains would 
have seen through most of them without difficulty. But Mr. Howel 
belonged to another school, and he w’as so much accustomed to shut 
his eyes to the palpable mystification mentioned by Mrs. Bloomfield 
that a lie, which, advanced in most works, would have carried no 
weight with it, advanced in this particular periodical became 
elevated to the dignity of truth. 

Mrs. Bloomfield turned to an article on America, in the periodical 
in question, and read from it several disparaging expressions concern- 


HOME AS FOUND. 239 

ing Mr. Howel’s native country, oneot which was “ The American’s 
first plaything is the rattlesnake’s tail.” 

” Now, what do you think of this assertion, in particular, Mr. 
Howel?” she asked, reading the words we have just quoted. 

“Oh! that is said in mere pleasantry — it is only wit.” 

“ Well, then, what do you think of it as wit?” 

“ Well, well, it may not be of a very pure water, but the best of 
men are unequal at all limes, and more especially in their wit.” 

“Here,” continued Mrs. Bloomfield, pointing to another para- 
graph, “ is a positive statement or misstatement, which makes the 
cost of the ‘ civil department of the United States Government ’ 
about six times more than it really is.” 

“ Our government is so extremely mean that 1 ascribe that error 
to generosity.” 

“ Well,” continued the lady, smiling, “ here the reviewer asserts 
that Congress passed a law limiting the size of certain ships, in order 
to please tlie democracy ; and that the Executive privately evaded this 
law, and built vessels of a much greater size; whereas the provision 
of the law is just the contrary, or that the ships should not be less 
than of seventy -four guns; a piece of information, by the way, that 
1 obtained from Mr. IPowis.” 

“ Ignorance, ma’am; a stranger cannot be supposed to know all 
the laws of a foreign country.” 

J‘ Then why make bold and false assertions about them that are 
intended to discredit the country. Here is another assertion—' ten 
thousand of the men that fought at Waterloo ^ould have marched 
through North America!’ Do you believe that, Mr. Howel?” 

“ But that is merely an opinion, Mrs. Bloomfield; any man may be 
wrong in his opinion.” 

“ Very true, but it is an opinion uttered in the year of our 
Lord one thousand eight hundred and twenty-eight; and after 
the battles of Bunker Hill, Cowpens, Plattsburg, Saratoga, 
and New Orleans! And, morever, after it had been proved that 
something very like ten thousand of the identical men who fought 
at Waterloo could not march even ten miles into the country.” 

“ Well, well, all this shows that the reviewer is sometimes mis- 
taken.” 

“ Your pardon, Mr. Howel; 1 think it shows, according to 3’’Our 
own admission, that his .wit, or rather its wit, for there is no his about 
it — that its wit is of a very indifferent quality as witticisms even; 
that it is ignorant of what it pretends to know; and that its opinions 
are no better than its knowledge; all of which, when fairly estab- 
lished against one who, by his very pursuit, professes to know more 
than other people, is ver}’' much like making it appear contemptible.” 

“ This is going back eight or ten years— let us look more particu- 
larly at the article about which the discussion commences.” 

“ Yolontiers F' 

Mrs. Bloomfield now sent to the library for the work reviewed, 
and opening the review she read some of its strictures; and then 
turning to the corresponding passages in the work itself, she pointed 
out the unfairness of the quotations, the omissions of the context, 
and, in several flagrant instances, witticisms of the reviewer that 
were purchased at the expense of the English language. She next 


240 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


showed several of those audacious assertions for which the particu- 
lar peiiodical was so remarkable, leaving no doubt with any candid 
person that they were purchased at the expense ot truth. 

“ But here is an instance that will scarce admit ot caviling or ob- 
jection on your part, Mr. Howel,” she continued; “ do me the favor 
to read the passage in the review.” 

Mr. Howel complied, and when he had done he looked expecting- 
ly at the lady. 

” The eftect ot the reviewer’s statement is to make it appear that 
the author has contradicted himself, is it not?” 

” Certainly, nothing can be plainer.” 

” According to your favorite reviewer,* who accuses him of it, in 
terms. How let us look at the tact. Here is the passage in the work 
itself. In the first place, you will remark that this sentence which 
contains the alleged contradiction, is mutilated; the part which is 
omitted, giving a directly contrary meaning to it, from that it bears 
under the reviewer’s scissors.” 

‘‘ It has some such appearance, 1 do confess.” 

” Here you perceive that the closing sentence ot the same para- 
graph, and which refers directly to the point at issue, is displaced, 
made to appear as belonging to a separate paragraph, and as conve\’’- 
ing a difiteient meaning from what the author has actually ex- 
pressed.” 

” Upon my word, 1 domot know but you are right!” 

” Well, Mr. Howel, we have had wit of no very pure water, igno- 
rance as relates to facts, and mistakes as regards very positive asser- 
tions. In what category, as Captain TrucK would say, do you place 
this?” 

“ AVhy does not the author reviewed expose this?” 

” Why does not a gentleman wrangle with a detected pickpocket?” 

‘‘ It is literary swindling,” said John Effingham, “ and the man 
who did it is inherently a knave.” 

‘‘ 1 think both these acts quite beyond dispute,” observed Mrs. 
Bloomfield, laying down Mr. Howel ’s favorite review with an air ot 
cool contempt; “ and 1 must say 1 did not think it necessary to prove 
the general character ot the work, at this late date, to any American 
of ordinary intelligence, much less to a sensible man like Mr. 
Howel.” 

” But, ma’am, there may be much truth and justice in the rest ot 
its remarks,” returned the pertinacious Mt. Howel, ‘‘although it 
has fallen into these mistakes.” 

‘‘ Were you ever on a jury, Howel?” asked John Effingham, in 
his caustic manner. 

‘‘ Often, and on grand juries, too.” 

” Well, did the judge never tell you, when a witness is detected 
in l 3 ing on one point, that his testimony is valueless on all others?” 

” \^ery true; but this is a review, and not testimony.” 

“The distinction is certainly a very good one,” resumed Mrs. 
Bloomfield, laughing, “ as nothing, in general, can be less like 
honest testimony than a review!” 

“ But 1 think, my dear ma’am, you will allow that all this is ex- 
cessively biting and severe. 1 can’t say lever read anything sharper 
in my life.” 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


241 


“ It strikes me, Mr. Howel, as being nothing but epithets, the 
cheapest and most contemptible of all species of abuse. ' Were two 
men, in your presence, to call each other such names, 1 think it 
w^ould excite nothing but disgust in your mind. When the thought 
is clear and poignant, there is little need to have recourse to mere 
epithets. Indeed, men never use the latter, except when there is a 
deficiency of the first.*’ 

“ Well, well, my friends,” cried Mr Howel, as he walked away 
toward Grace and Sir George, ” this is a aiflerent thing from what 
1 at first thought it; but still I think you undervalue the period- 
ical.” 


‘‘ 1 hope this little lesson will cool some of Mr. How el’s faith in 
foreign morality,” observed Mrs. Bloomfield, as soon as the gentle- 
man named was out of hearing; ” a more credulous and devout wor- 
shiper of the idol 1 have never before met.” 

” The school is diminishing, but it is still large. Men like Tom 
Howel, who have thought in one direction all their li ves, are not easily 
brought to change their notions, especially when the admiration 
whicli proceeds from distance— distance, ‘ that lends enchantment 
to the view ’ — is at the bottom of their faith. Had this very article 
been written and printed round the corner of the street in which 
he lives, Howel would be the first to say that it was the production 
of a fellow without talents or principles, and was unworthy of a 
second thought.” 

‘‘H still think he will be a wiser if not a better man, by the expos- 
ure of its frauds.” 

“Hot he. If you will excuse a homelj'^ and a coarse simile, ‘ he 
will return like a dog to his vomit, or the sow to its wallowing in 
the mire.’ 1 never knew one of that school thoroughly cured, until 
he became himself the subject of attack, or by a close personal com- 
munication was made to feel the superciliousness of European 
superiority. It is only a week since 1 had a discussion with him on 
the subject of the humanity and the relish for liberty in his beloved 
model; and when 1 cited the instance of the employment of the 
tomahawk in the wars between England and this country, he actu- 
ally affirmed that the Indian savages killed no women and children 
but the wives and offspring of their enemies; and when 1 told him 
that the English, like most other people, cared very little for any 
liberty but their own, he coolly affirmed that their own was the only 
liberty worth caring for!” 

‘‘ Oh, yes,” put in young Mr. Wenham, who had overheard the 
latter portion of the conversation, ‘‘ Mr. Howel is so thoroughly En- 
glish, that he actually denies that America is the most civilized 
country in the world, or that we speak our language better than any 
nation was ever before known to speak its own language.” 

” This is so manifest an acWof treason,” said Mrs, Bloomfield, 
endeavoring to look grave; for Mr. Wenham was anything but ac- 
curate in the use of words himself, commonly pronouncing ” been ” 
” ben,” “does ” “ dooze,’' “nothing,” “ nawthing ” “ few ” “ foo,” 
etc., etc., “that, certainly Mr. Howel should be arraigned at the 
bar of public opinion for the outrage.” 

“It is commonly admitted, even by our enemies, that our mode 
of speaking is the very best in the world, which, 1 suppose, is the 


242 


HOME AS FOUND. 


real reason why our literature has so rapidly reached the top of the 
ladder,” 

” And is that the fact?” asked Mrs. Bloomfield, with a curiosity 
that was not in the least feigned. 

‘‘ 1 believe no one denies that. You will sustain me in this, 1 
fancy, Mr. Dodge?” 

The editor of the ” Active Inquirer ” had approached, and was 
just in time to catch the subject in discussion. Now the modes of 
speech of these two persons, while they had a great deal in common, 
had also a great deal that was not in common. Mr. Wenham was 
a native of New Y^ork, and his dialect was a mixture that is getting 
to be sufficiently gerjeral, partaking equally of the Doiic of New 
England, the Dutch cross, and the old English root; whereas Mr. 
Dodge spoke the pure, unalloyed Tuscan ot his province, rigidly 
adhering to all its sounds and significations. ” Dissipation,” he con- 
tended, meant “drunkenness;” “ugly,” “vicious;” “clever,” 
“ good-natured;” and “ humbly ” (homely), “ ugly.” In addition 
to this finesse in significations, he had a variety of pronunciations 
that often put strangers at fault, and to which- he adhered with a 
pertinacity that obtained some of its force from the fact that it ex- 
ceeded his power to get rid of them. Notwithstanding all these little 
peculiarities — peculiarities as respects every one b^ut those who 
dwelt in his own province, Mr. Dodge had also taken up the notion 
ot his superiority on the subject ot language, and always treated the 
matter as one that was placed quite beyond dispute by its publicily 
and truth. 

“ The progress of American literature,” returned the editor, “ is 
reall}^ astonishing the four quarters of the world. 1 believe it is very 
generally admitted, now, that our pulpit and bar are at the very 
summit of these two professions. Then we have much the best poets 
of the age, while eleven ot our novelists surpass any of all other 
countries. The American Philosophical Society is, 1 believe, gen- 
erally considered the most acute learned body now existing, unless, 
indeed, the New York Historical Society may compete with it for 
that honor. Some persons give the palm to one, and some to the 
other; though 1 myself think it would be difficult to decide between 
them. Then to what a pass has the drama risen of late years! Genius 
is getting to be quite a drug in America!” 

“ You have forgotten to speak ot the press, in particular,” put in 
the complacent Mr. Wenham. “ 1 think we may more safely pride 
ourselves on the high character of the press than anything else.” 

“ Why, to tell you the truth, sir,” answered Steadfast, taking the 
other by the arm and leading him so slowly away, that a part of 
what followed was'lieard by the two amused listeners, “ modesty is 
so infallibly the companion of merit, that we who are engaged m 
that high pursuit, do not like to sa^ anything in our own favor. 
You never delect a newspaper in the weakness of extolling itself ; 
but, between ourselves, I may say, after a close examination of the 
condition of the press in other countries, 1 have come to the conclu- 
sion that, for talents, taste, candor, philosophy, genius, honesty, and 
truth, the press ot the United States stands at the very — ” 

Here Mr. Dodge passed so far from the listeners, that the rest of 
the speech became inaudible, though, from the well-established 


t 


HOME AS FOUND, 


- 243 


modesty of the man and the editor, tliere can be little doubt of the 
manner in which he concluded the sentence, 

“ It is said in Europe,” observed John Effingham, his fine face 
expressing the cool sarcasm in which he was so apt to indulge, 
” that there are la vieille and la jeune France. 1 think we have now 
had pretty fair specimens of old and young America; the first dis- 
trusting everything native, even to a potato; and the second distrust- 
ing nothing, and least of all, itself.” 

‘‘There appears to be a sort of pendulum-uneasiness in man- 
kind,” said Mrs. Bloomfield, “ that keeps opinion always vibrating 
around the center of truth, for I think it the rarest thing in the 
world to find a man or woman who has not a disposition, as soon as 
an error is abandoned, to fly ofl: into its opposite extreme. From be- 
lieving we had nothing worthy of a thought, there is a set springing 
up who appear to have jumped to the conclilsion tnat we have every- 
thing.” 

“ Ay, this is one of the reasons that all the rest of the world 
laugh at us.” 

‘‘ Laugh at us, Mr. Effingham! Even 1 had supposed the Ameri- 
can name had, at last, got to be in good credit in other parts of the 
world.” 

‘‘ Then even you, my dear Mrs. Bloomfield, are notably mistaken. 
Europe, it is true, is beginning to give us credit for not being quite 
as bad as she once thought us; but we are far, very tar, from being 
yet admitted to the ordinary level of nations, as respects goodness.” 

‘‘ Surely they give us credit for energy, enterprise, activity — ” 

‘‘ Qualities that they prettily term, rapacity, cunning, and swin- 
dling! 1 am far, very far, however, from giving credit to all that it 
suits the interests and prejudices of Europe, especially of our 
venerable kinswoman. Old England, to circulate and think to the 
prejudice of this country, which, in my poor judgment, has as much 
substantial merit to boast of as any nation on earth; though, in get- 
ting rid of a set of ancient vices and follies, it has not had the sa- 
gacity to discover that it is fast falling into pretty tolerable, or, if 
you like it better, intolerable substitutes.” 

‘‘ What then do you deem our greatest eiror— our weakest point?” 

‘‘ Provincialisms, with their train of narrow prejudices, and a 
disposition to set up mediocrity as perfection, under the double in- 
fluence of an ignorance that unavoidably arises from a want of 
models, and of the irresistible tendency to mediocrity, in a nation 
where the common mind so imperiously rules.” 

‘‘ But does not the common mind rule everywhere? Is not pub- 
lic opinion always stronger than law?” 

“ In a certain sense, both these positions may be true. But in a 
nation like this, without a capital, one that is all provinces, in which 
intelligence and taste are scattered, this common mind wants the 
usual direction, and derives its impulses from the force of numbers 
rather than from the force of knowledge. Hence the fact that the 
public opinion never or seldom rises to absolute truth. 1 grant you 
Uiat, as a mediocrity, it is well; much better than common even; 
but it is still a mediocrity.” 

“ 1 see the justice of your remark, and 1 suppose we are to ascribe 


HOME AS FOUND. 


244 

the general use of superlatives, which is so very obvious, to these 
causes.” 

‘‘ Unquestionably; men have got to be afraid to speak the truth, 
when that truth is a little beyond the common comprehension; and 
thus it is that you see the fulsome flattery that all the public serv- 
ants, as they call themselves, resort to, in order to increase their 
popularit}’^, instead of telling the wholesome facts that are needed.” 

” And what is to be the result?” 

” Heaven knows. While America is so much in advance of other 
nations in a freedom from prejudices of the old school, it is fast sub- 
stituting a set of prejudices of its own that are not without serious 
dangers. We may live through it, and the ills of society may cor- 
rect themselves, though there is one fact that menaces more evil 
than anything 1 could have feared.” 

” You mean the political struggle between money and numbers, 
that has so seriously manifested itself of late!” exclaimed the quick- 
minded and intelligent Mrs. Bloomfield. 

” That has its dangers; but there is still another evil of greater 
magnitude. 1 allude to the very general disposition to confine poli- 
tical discussions to political men. Thus, the private citizen who 
should presume to discuss a political question would be deemed fair 
game for all Who thought difterently from himself. He would be 
injured in his pocket, reputation, domestic happiness, if possible; 
tor, in this respect, America is much the most intolerant nation 1 
have ever visited. In all other countries in w^hich discussion is per- 
mitted at all, there is at least the appearance qf fair play, whatever 
may be done covertly; but here it seems to be sufficient to justify 
falsehood, frauds, nay, barefaced rascality, to establish that the in- 
jured party has had the audacity to meddle with public questions, 
not being whai the public chooses to call a public man. It is 
scarcely necessary to say that when such an opinion gets to be effect- 
ive, it must entirely defeat the real intentions of a popular govern- 
ment.” 

” Now you mention it,” said Mrs. Bloomfield, ‘‘ 1 think 1 have 
witnessed instances of what you mean.” 

” Witnessed, dear Mrs. Bloomfield! Instances are to be seen as 
often as a man is found freeman enough to have an opinion inde- 
pendent of his part}’’. It is not for connecting himself with party 
that man is denounced in this country, but tor daring to connect 
himself with truth. Party will bear with party, but party will not 
bear with truth. It is in politics as in war, regiments or individuals 
may desert, and they will be received by their late enemies with open 
arms, the honor of a soldier seldom reaching to the pass of refusing 
succor of any sort; but both sides will turn and fire on the country- 
men who wish merely to defend their homes and firesides.” 

‘‘ iTou draw disagreeable pictures of human nature, Mr. Effing- 
ham.” 

” IMerely because they are true, Mrs. Bloomfield. Man is worse 
than the beasts, merely because he has a code of right and wrong 
which he never respects. They talk of the variation of the compass, 
and even pretend to calculate its changes, though no one can explain 
the principle tlmt causes the attraction or its vagaries at all. So it 
is with men; they pretend to look alwa 3 ^s at the right, though their 


HOME AS EOUKD. 


245 


eyes are constantly directed obliquely; and it is,a certain calculation 
to allow of a prett}" wide v^ariation — but here comes Miss EQingham, 
singularly well attired, and more beautiful than 1 have ever before 
seen herl'’ 

The two exchanged quick glances, and then, as if fearful of be- 
traying to each other their thoughts, they moved toward our heroine, 
to do the honors of the reception. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

Haply, when I shall wed, 

That lord, whose hand must take my plight, shall carry 
Half my love with him, half my care and duty. 

Cordelia. 

As no man could be more gracefully or delicately polite than John 
Etiiugham when the humor, seized him, Mrs. Bloomfield m^qs struck 
with the kind and gentlemanlike manner with which he met his 
young kinswoman on this trying occasion, and the affectionate tones 
of his voice, and the winning expression of his eye, as he addressed 
her. Eve herself was not unobservant of these peculiarities, nor 
was she slow in comprehending the reason. She perceived at once 
th;tt he was acquainted with the state of things between her and 
Paul. As she well knew the womanly fidelity of Mis Bloomfield, 
she rightly enough conjectured that the long observation of her 
cousin, coupled with the few words accidentally overheard that 
evening, had even made him better -acquainted with the true condi- 
tion of her feelings, than was the case with the friend with whom 
she had so lately been conversing on the subject. 

Still Eve was not embarrassed by the conviction that her secret 
was betrayed to so many persons. Her attachment to Paul was not 
the impulse of girlish caprice, but the warm affection of a woman, 
that had grown with time, was sanctioned by her reason, and which, 
if it was tinctured with the more glowing imagination and ample 
failh of youth, was also sustained by her principles and her sense of 
right. She knew that both her father and cousin esteemed the man 
of her own choice, nor did she believe the little cloud that hung over 
his biith could do more than have a temporary influence on his own 
sensitive feelings. She met John Effingham, therefore, with a frank 
composure, returned the kind pressure of his hand with a smile such 
as a daughter might bestow on an affectionate parent, and turned to 
salute the remainder of the party with that lady-like ease which had 
got to be a part of her nature. 

“ There g 02 s one of the most attractive pictures that humanity 
can offer,” said John Effingham to Mrs. Bloomfield, as Eve walked 
away; ” a young, timid, modest, sensitive girl, so strong in her prin- 
ciples, so conscious of rectitude, so pure of thought, and so warm 
ill her affections, that she views her selection of a husband, as others 
view their acts of duty and religious faith. With her, love has no 
shame, as it has no weakness.” 

‘‘Eve Effingham is as faultless as comports with womanhood; 
and yet 1 confess ignorance of my own sex, if she receive Mr. Powis 
as calmly as she received her cousin.” 


24G 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


“ Perhaps uot, for in that case she could scarcely feel the passion. 
You perceive that he avoids oppressing her with his notice, and that 
the meeting passes oft without embarrassment. J do believe there 
is an elevating principle in love, that, by causing us to wish to be 
worthy of the object most prized, produces the desired effects by 
stimulating exertion. There, now, are two as perfect beings as one 
ordinarily meets with, each oppressed by a sense of his or her un- 
wortliiness to be the choice of the other.” 

” Does love, then, teach humility; successful love, too?” 

“Does it not? It would be hardly fair to press this matter on 
you, a married woman; tor, by the pandects of American society, a 
man may pbilosophize on love, prattle about it, trifle on the subject, 
and even analyze the passion with a miss in her teens, and yet he 
shall not allude to it in a discourse with a matrop. Well, chacun 
d son gout; we are, indeed, a little peculiar in our usages, and have 
promoted a good deal of village^ coquetry, and the flirtations of the 
maypole, to the drawing-room.” 

” Is it not better that such follies should be confined to youth, 
than that they should invade the sanctity of married life, as I under- 
stand is too much the case elsewhere?” 

” Perhaps so; though 1 confess it is easier to dispose of a straight- 
forward proposition from a mother, a father, or a commissioned 
friend, than to get rid of a young lady, who, propria persona, angles 
on her own account. While abroad, 1 had a dozen proposals — 

‘‘ Proposals!” exclaimed Mrs. Bloomfield, holding up both hands, 
and shaking her head incredulously. 

‘‘ Proposals! Why not, ma’am? — am 1 more than fifty?— am 1 
not reasonabl}’’ 5"outhtul for that period of life, and have 1 not six or 
eight thousand a year—” 

“ Eisrhteen, or you are much scandalized.” 

” Well, eighteen, if you will,” coolly returned the other, in whose 
eyes money was no merit, for he was born to a fortune, and always 
treated it as a means, and not as the end of life: ” every dollar is a 
magnet, after one has turned forty. Do you suppose that a single 
man, of tolerable person, well born, and with a hundred thousand 
francs of rentes, could entirely escape proposals from the ladies in 
Europe?” 

” This is so revolting to all our American notions that, though I 
have often heard of such tilings, 1 have always found it difficult to 
believe them!” 

” And IS it more revolting for the friends of young ladies to look 
out for them, on such occasions, than that the young ladies should 
take the affair into their own hands, as is practiced quite as openly 
here?” 

” It is well )mu are a confirmed bachelor, or declarations like these 
would mar youi fortunes. 1 will admit that the school is not as re- 
tirimr and diffident as formerly; for we are all ready enough to say 
that no times are equal to our own limes; but 1 shall strenuously 
protest against your interpretation ot the nature and artlessness of 
an American girl.” 

” Aitlessness!” repeated John Effingham, with a slight lifting of 
the eyebrows; ‘‘we live in an age when new dictionaries and 
vocabularies are necessary to understand each other’s meaning. It 


HOME AS FOUND. 


247 

is artlessness with a vengeance to beset an old fellow of fifty as one 
would besiege a town. Hist! Ned is retiring with his daughter, my 
dear Mrs. Bloomfield, and it will not be long before 1 shall be sum- 
moned to a family council. . Well, we will keep Ihe secret until it is 
publicly proclaimed.” 

John Efflngham was right, for his two cousins left the room 
together and retired to the library, but in a way to attract no par- 
ticular attention, except in those who were enligutened on the sub- 
ject of what had already passed that evening. When they w'ere 
alone Mr. Effingham turned the key, and then he gave a free vent 
to his paternal feelings. 

Between Eve and her parent there had always existed a confidence 
exceeding ihat which it is common to find between father and 
daughter. In one sense they had been all in all to each other, and 
Eve had never hesitated about pouring those feelings into his breast 
wtiich, had she possessed another parent, would more naturally 
have been confided to the affection of a mother. When their eyes 
first met, therefore, they were mutually beaming with an expression 
of confidence and love such as might, in a measure, have been ex- 
jDected between two of the gentler sex. Mr. Efflngham folded his 
child to his heart, pressed her there tenderly for near a minute in 
silence, and then kissing her burning cheek he permitted her to look 
up,, 

” This answers all my fondest hopes, Eve!” he exclaimed; ” ful- 
fills my most cherished wishes for thy sake.” 

“ Dearest sir!” 

“ Yes, m.y love, 1 have long secretly prayed that such might be 
your good fortune; for, of all the youths we ha^ve met, at home or 
abroad, Paul Powis is the one to whom I can consign you with the 
most confidence that he will cherish and love you as you deserve to 
be cherished and loved!” 

“ Dearest father, nothing but this was wanting to complete my 
perfect happiness.” 

Mr. Efflngham kissed his daughter again, and he was then en- 
abled to pursue the conversfition with greater composuie. 

” Powis and 1 have had a full explanation,” he said, “ though in 
order to obtain it 1 have been obliged to give him strong encourage- 
ment — ” 

” Father!” 

“ Nay, my love, your delicacy and feelings have been sufficiently 
respected, but he has so much diffidence of himself, and pernaits the 
unpleasant circumstances connected with his birth to weigh so much 
on his mind, that 1 have been compelled to tell him, what 1 am sure 
you will approve, that we disregard family connections, and look 
only to the merit of the individual.” 

” 1 hope, father, nothing w^as said to give Mr. Powis reason to 
suppose we did not deem him every way our equal?” 

‘‘Certainly not. He is a gentleman, and 1 can claim to be no 
more. There is but one thing in which connections ought to influ- 
ence an American marriage, where the parties are suited to each 
other in the main requisites, and that is to ascertain that neither 
should be carried, necessarily, into associations which their hab- 
its have given them too much and too good taste to enter into. A 


248 


HOME AS FOUKD. 




woman especially ought never to be transplanted from a polished to 
an unpolished circle; tor, when this is the case, if really a lady, there 
will be a dangerous clog on her affection for her husband. This one 
great point assured, 1 “see no other about which a parent need feel 
concern.” 

” Powis, unhappily, has no connections in this country; pr none 
with whom he' has any communications; and those he has in Eng- 
land are of a class to do him credit.” 

‘‘We have been conversing of this, and he has manifested so much 
proper feeling that it has even raised him in my esteem. 1 knew his 
father’s family, and must have known his father, 1 think, though 
there were two or three Asshetons of the name of John. It is a 
highly respectable family of the Middle States, and belonged for- 
merly to the colonial aristocracy. Jack Effingham’s mother was 
an Assheton.” 

‘‘ Of the same blood do you think, sir? 1 remembered this when 
Mr. Powis mentioned his father’s name, and intended to question 
Cousin Jack on the subject.” 

‘‘ ISlow you speak of it. Eve, there must be a relationship between 
them. Do you suppose that our kinsman is acquainted with the fact 
that Paul is, in truth, an Assheton?” 

Eve told her father that sbe had never spoken with their relative 
on the subject at all. 

‘‘ Then ring the bell, and we will ascertain at once how far my 
conjecture is true. You can have no false delicacy, my child, about 
letting your engagement be known to one as near and as dear to us 
us John.” 

‘‘ Engagement, father!” 

” Yes, engagement,” returned the smiling parent, ‘‘ for such 1 
already deem it. 1 have ventured, in your behalf, to plight }our 
troth to Paul Powis, or what is almost equal to it; and in return 1 
can give you back as many protestations of unequaled fidelity and 
eternal constancy as any reasonable girl can ask.” 

Eve gazed at her father in a way to show that reproach was 
mingled with fondness, for she felt that, in this instance, too much 
of the precipitation of the other sex had been manifested in her 
affairs; still, superior to coquetry and affectation, and much too 
warm in her attachments to be seriously hurt, she kissed the hand 
she held, shook her head reproachfully, even w'hile she smiled, and 
did as had been desired. 

‘‘You have, indeed, rendered it important to us to know more of 
Mr. Powis, my beloved father.” she said, as she returned to her seat, 
” though I could wish matters had not proceeded quite so fast.” 

” Nay, all 1 promised was conditional, and dependent on yourself. 
Y"ou have nothing to do, if 1 have said too much, but to refuse to 
ratify the treaty made by your negotiator.” 

‘‘ Vou propose an impossibility,” said Eve, taking the hand again 
that she had so lately relinquished, and pressing it warmly between 
her own; ‘‘ the negotiator is too much revered, has too strong a right 
to command, and is too much conthh d in to be thus dishonored. 
Father, 1 will, 1 do, ratify all you have, all you can promise in my 
behalf.” 

Even if 1 annul treaty, darling?” 


SOME AS EOtJMD. 


^49 


“ Even in that case, father. 1 will marry none without your con- 
sent, and have so absolute a confidence in your tender care ot me, 
that 1 do not even hesitate to say 1 will marry him to whom you 
contract me.” 

‘‘Bless you, bless you, Eve; 1 do believe you, tor such have I 
ever found you since thought has had any control over your actions. 
Desire Mr. John Effingham to come hither ” — then, as the servant 
closed the door, he continued, ‘‘ and such 1 believe you will continue 
to be until your dying day. ’ ’ 

” IS ay, reckless, careless father, you forget that you yourself have 
been instrumental in transferring my duty and obedience to another. 
What if this sea-monster should prove a tyrant, throw off the mask, 
and show himself in his real colors? Are you prepared, then, 
thoughtless, precipitate parent ” — Eve kissed Mr. Effingham’s cheek 
with childish playfulness as she spoke, her heart swelling with hap- 
piness the whole time, ‘‘ to preach obedience where obedience would 
then be due?” 

‘‘ Hush, precious — 1 hear the step of Jack; he must not catch us 
fooling in this manner.” 

Eve rose; and when her kinsman entered the room, she held out 
her hand kindly to him, though it was with an averted face and a 
tearful eye. 

‘‘ It is time I was summoned,” said John Effingham, after he had 
drawn the blushing girl to him and kissed her forehead, ‘‘ for what 
between Ute-d-tetes with young fellows, and tete-d-tetes with old fel- 
lows, this evening, 1 began to think myself neglected. 1 hope 1 am 
still in time to render my decided disapprobation available!” 

‘‘ Cousin Jack!” exclaimed Eve, withalook ot reproachful mock- 
ery, ‘‘ you are the last person who ought to speak of disapprobation, 
lor you have done little else but sing the praises of the applicant 
since 5-^00 first met him.” 

‘‘Is it even so? Then, like others, 1 must submit to the conse- 
quences of my own precipitation and false conclusions. Am 1 sum- 
moned to inquire how many thousands a year 1 shall add to the 
establishment of the new cibuple? As I hate business, say five at 
once; and when the papers are ready 1 will sign them without read- 
ing.” 

“ Most generous cynic,” cried Eve, ‘‘ I would I dared now to ask 
a single question !” 

‘‘ Ask it without scruple, young lady, for this is the day of your 
independence and power. 1 am mistaken in the man, if Powis do 
not prove to be the captain of his own ship in the end.” 

‘‘ Well, then, in whose behalf is this liberality really meant; mine, 
or that of the gentleman?” 

‘‘ Fairly enough put,” said John Effingham, laughing again, 
drawing Eve toward him and saluting her cheek; ” for it 1 were on 
the rack, 1 could scarcely say which 1 love best, although you have 
the consolation of knowing, pert one, that you getilie most kisses.” 

‘‘lam almost in the same state of feeling myself, John, for a son 
of my own could scarcely be dearer to me than Paul.” 

‘‘ 1 see, indeed, that 1 must marry,” said Eve, hastily dashing the 
tears of delight from her eyes, for what could irive more delight than 
to hear the praises of her beloved, “ if I wish to retain my place in 


250 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


your affections. But, father, we forget the question you were to 
put to Cousin Jack.” 

” True love. John, your mother was an Assheton?” 

” Assuredly, Ned; you aie not to learn my pedigree at this time 
of day, I trust.” 

‘‘We are anxious to make out a relationship between you and 
Paul; can it not be done?” 

“ 1 would give half my fortune. Eve consenting, were it so! What 
reason is there for supposing it probable, or even possible?” 

” You know that he bears the name of his friend, and adopted 
parent, while that of his family is really Assheton.” 

” Assheton!” exclaimed the other, in a way to show that this was 
the first be had ever heard of the fact. 

” Certainly; and as there is but one family of this name, which 
is a little peculiar in the spelling — for here it is spelt by Paul him- 
self, on this card— we have thought that he must be a relation of 
j'ours. 1 hope we are not to be disappointed.” 

‘‘Assheton! It is, as you say, an unusual name; nor is there 
more than one family that bears it in this country, to my knowledge. 
Can it be possible that Powis is truly an Assheton?” 

‘‘ Out of all doubt,” Eve eagerly exclaimed; “ we have it from 
his own mouth. His father was an Assheton, and his mother was—” 

‘‘ Who?” demanded John Effingham, with a vehemence that 
startled his companions. 

‘‘Nay, that is more than 1 can tell you, for he did not mention 
the family name of his mother; as she was a sister of Lady Dunluce, 
however, who is the wife of General Ducie, the father of our guest, 
it is probable her name was Dunluce.” 

‘‘ 1 remember no relative that has made such a marriage, or who 
can have made such a mairiage; and yet do 1 personally and inti- 
mately know every Assheton in the country.” 

Mr. Effingham and his daughter looked at each other, for it at 
once struck them all painfully that there must be Asshetons of an- 
other family. 

“ Were it not for the peculiar manner in which this name is 
spelt,” sal cl Mr. Effingham, ‘‘ 1 could suppose that there are Asshe- 
tons of whom we know nothing; but it is dilficult to believe that 
there can be such persons of a respectable family of whom we never 
heard, for Powis said his relatives were of the Middle States — ” 

‘‘And that is mother was called Dunluce?” demanded John 
Effingham, earnestly, tor he too appeared to wish to discover an 
atllDity between himself and Paul. 

‘‘ Nay, father, this 1 think he did not say; though it is quite prob- 
able; for the title of his aunt is an ancient barony, and those ancient 
baronies usually become the family name.” 

‘‘ In this you must be mistaken. Eve, since he mentioned that the 
right was derived through his mother's mother, who was an En- 
glishwoman.” 

‘‘Why not send for him at once and put the question?” said the 
simple-minded Mr. Effingham; next to having him for my own son, 
it would give me pleasure, John, to learn that he was lawfully en 
titled to that which 1 know you have done in his behalf.” 

‘‘ That is impossible,” returned John Effingham. ‘‘ 1 am an only 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


251 


child, and as for cousins throiip^h my mother, there are so many who 
stand in an ecjual degree of affinity to me, that no one in particular 
can be my heir-at-law. It there were, 1 am an Effingham; my 
estate came from Effinghams, and to an Effingham it shot: Id descend 
in spite of all the Asshetons in America.” 

” Paul Powis included 1” exclaimed Eve, raising a finger reproach- 
fully. 

” True, to him 1 have left a legacy; but it was to a Powis, and not 
to an Assheton.” 

‘‘And yet he declares himself legally an Assheton, and not a 
Powis.” 

” Say no more of this, Eve; it is unpleasant to me. I hate the 
name of Assheton, though it was my mother’s, and could wish 
never to hear it again.” 

Eve and her father were mute, for their kinsman, usually so proud 
and self -rest i-ained, spoke with suppressed emotion, and it was plain 
that, for some hidden carrsc, he felt even more than he expressed. 
The idea that there should be anything about Paul tl)at could ren- 
der him an object of dislike lo one as dear to her as her cousin, was 
inexpressibly painful to the former, and she regretted that the sub- 
ject had ever been introduced. Not so with her father. Simple, 
direct, a'Udfull of truth, Mr. Effingham rightly enough believed that 
mysteries in a familj’’ could lead to no good, and he repeated his pro- 
posal of sending for Paul, and having the matter cleared uj^ at once. 

” You are too reasonable. Jack,” he concluded, ‘‘ to let an antipathy 
against a name that was your mother’s interfere with your sense of 
right. 1 know that some unpleasant questions arose concerning 
your succession to my aunt’s fortune, but that was all settled in 
your favor twenty years ago, and 1 thought to your entire satisfac- 
tion.” 

” Unhappily, family quarrels are ever the most bitter, and 
usually they are the least reconcilable,” returned John Effingham, 
evasively. ” I would that this young man’s name were anything 
but Assiieton! 1 do not wish to see Eve plighting her faith at the 
altar to any one bearing that accursed name!” 

” 1 shall plight my faith, if ever it be done, dear Cousin John, to 
the man, and not to his name.” 

” No, no— he must keep the appellation of Powis by which we 
have all learned to love him, and to which he has done so much 
credit.” 

‘‘ This is very strange. Jack, for a man who is usually as discreet 
and as well regulated as yourself. 1 again propose that we send for 
Paul, and ascertain preeisely to what branch of this so-much-disliked 
family he really belongs.” 

‘‘ No, father, if you love me, not now!” cried Eve, arresting Mr 
Effingham's hand as he touched the bell-cord; “it would appear 
distrustful, and even cruel, were we to enter into such an inquiry so 
soon. Powis might think we valued his family more than we do 
himself.” 

‘‘Eve is right, Ned; but 1 will not sleep without learning all. 
Tliere is an unfinjshed examination of the papers left by poor Mon- 
day, and 1 will take an occasion to summon Paul to its completion, 
when an opportunity will offer to renew the subject ol his own his- 


252 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


tory; for it was at the other investigation that he first spoke frankly 
to me concerning himself.” 

“ Do so. Cousin Jack, and let it be at once,” said Eve, earnestly. 
” 1 can trust you with Powis alone, for I know how much you re- 
spect and esteem him in your heart. See, it is already ten,”^ 

” But he will naturally wish to spend the close of an evening like 
this engaged in investigating something very different from Mr. 
Monday’s tale,” returned her cousin; the smile with which he spoke 
chasing away the look of chilled aversion that had so lately darkened 
his noble features. 

” INo, not to night,” answered the blushing Eve, ‘‘ I have con- 
fessed weakness enough for one day. To-morrow, if you will — it 
he will— but not to-night. 1 shall retire with Mrs. Hawker, who 
already complains of fatigue; and you will send for Powis to meet 
you in your own room, without unnecessary delay.” 

Eve kissed John Effingham coaxingly, and as they walked 
together out of the library, she pointed toward the door that led to 
the chambers. Her cousin laughingly complied, and when in his 
own room, he sent a message to Paul to join him. 

” Now, indeed, may 1 call you a kinsman,” said John Effingham, 
rising to receive the young man, toward whom he advanced, with 
extended hands, in his most winning manner. “ Eve’s frankness 
and your own discernment have made us a happy family!” 

“If anything could add to the felicity of being acceptable to 
Miss Effingham,” returned Paul, struggling to command his feel- 
ings, “it is the manner in which hei father and yourself have re- 
ceived my poor offers.” 

“ Well, we will now speak of it no more. 1 saw from the first 
which way things were tending, and it was my plain-dealing that 
opened the eyes of Templemore to the impossibility of his ever suc- 
ceeding, by which means his heart has been kept from breaking.” 

“ Uhl Mr. Effingham, Templemore never loved Eve Etfingham! 
1 thought so once, and he thought so, too; but it could not have 
been a love like mine.” 

“ It certainly differed in the essential circumstance of reciprocity, 
which, in itself, singularly qualifies the passion, so far as duration 
is concerned. Templemore did not exactly know the reason why he 
preferred Eve; but, having seen so much of the society in which he 
lived, I was enabled lo detect the cause. Accustomed to an elabo- 
rate sophistication, the singular union of refinement and nature 
caught his fancy, tor the English seldom see the last separated from 
vulgarity; and when it is found, softened by a high intelligence and 
polished manners, it has usually great attraction for the biases.” 

“ He is fortunate in having so' readily found a substitute for Eve 
Effingham 1” 

“ This change is not unnatural, either. In the first place, 1, with 
this truth-telling tongue, destroyed all hope before he had commit- 
ted himself by a declaration; and then Grace Van Cortlandt pos- 
sesses the great attraction of nature in a degree quite equal to that 
of her cousin. Besides, Templemore, though a gentleman, and a 
brave man, and a worthy one, is not remarkable for qualities of a 
very extraordinary kind. He will be as happy as is usual for an 
Englishman of his class to be, and he has no particular right to ex- 


HOME AS FOUND. 


253 


pect more. 1 sent 101 * you, however, less to talk of love than to 
trace its unhappy consequences in this affair, revealed by the papers 
of poor Monday. It is time we acquitted ourselves of that trust. 
Do me the favor to open the dressing-case that stands on the toilet- 
table; you will find in it the key that belongs to the bureau, where 
1 have placed the secretaire that contains the papers.” 

Paul did as desired. The dressing-case was complicated and 
large, having several compartments, none of which were fastened. 
In the first opened, he saw a miniature of a female so beautiful that 
his eye rested on it, as it might be by a fascination. Notwithstand- 
ing some difference produced by the fashions of different periods, the 
resemblance to the object of his love was obvious at a glance. Borne 
away by the pleasure of the discovery, and actually believing that 
he saw the picture of Eve, drawn in a dress that, did not in a great 
degree vary from the present attire, fashion having undergone no 
very striking revolution in the last twenty years, he exclaimed— 

‘‘ This is indeed a treasure, Mr. Effingham, and most sincerely 
do 1 envy you its possession. It is like, and yet, in some particulars, 
it is unlike— it scarcely does Miss Effingham justice about the nose 
and forehead!” 

John Effingham started when he saw the miniature in Paul’s 
hand, but, recovering himself, he smiled at the eager delusion of his 
young friend, and said with perfect composure: 

” It is not Eve, but her mother. The two features you have named 
in the former came from my family; but in all the others the like- 
ness is almost identical.” 

” This then is Mrs. Effingham!” murmured Paul, gazing on the 
face of the mother of his love with a respectful melancholy, and an 
interest that was rather heightened than lessened by a knowledge of 
the truth. ” She died young, sir?” 

” Quite; she can scarcely be said 1o have become an angel too 
soon, for she was alwa 5 ^s one.” 

This was said with a feeling that did not escape Paul, though it 
surprised him. There were six or seven miniature-cases in the com- 
partment of the dressing-box, and supposing that the one which lay 
uppermost belonged to the miniature in his hand, he raised it and 
opened the lid with a view to replace the picture of Eve’s mother with 
a species of pious reverence. Instead of finding an empty case, 
however, another miniature met his eye. The exclamation that 
now escaped the young man was one of delight and surprise. 

” That must be my grandmother with whom you are in such 
raptures at present,” said John Effingham, laughing. ” I was com- 
paring it yesterday with the picture of Eve, which is in the Russia- 
leather case that you will find somewhere there. 1 do not wonder, 
however, at your admiration, lor she was a beauty in her day, and 
no woman is fool enough to be painted after she grows ugly.” 

‘‘Not so— not so — Mr. Effingham! This is the miniature 1 lost 
in the ” Montauk,” and which 1 had given up as booty to the Arabs. 
It has, doubtless, found its way into your state-room, and has been 
put among your effects by your man through mistake. It is very 
precious to me, for it is nearly every memorial I possess of my own 
mother!” 

‘‘ Your mother!” exclaimed John Effingham, rising. “I think 


254 


HOME AS FOUND. 


there must he some mistake, for 1 examined all those pictures this 
very morning, and it is the first time they have been opened since 
our arrival from Europe. It can not he the missing picture.” 

” Mine it is certainly; in that 1 can not be mistaken!” 

‘‘ It would be odd, indeed, if one of my grandmothers, for both 
are there, should prove to be your mother. Powis, will you have 
the goodness to let me see the picture you mean?” 

Paul brought the miniature and a light, placing both before the 
eyes of his friend. 

” That!” exclaimed John Effingham, his voice sounding harsh 
and unnatural to the listener—” that picture like jmur mother!” 

“It is her miniature— the miniature that was transmitted tome 
from those who had charge of my childhood. 1 can not be mistaken 
as to the countenance or the dress.” 

” And your father’s name was Assheton?” 

” Certainly— John Assheton, of the Asshetons of Pennsylvania.” 

John Effingham groaned aloud; when Paul stepped back, equally 
shocked and surprised, he saw that the face of his friend was almost 
livid, and that the hand which held the picture shook like the aspen. 

” Are you unwell, dear Mr. Effingham?” 

” No— no— ’tis impossible! This lady never had a child. Powis, 
you have been deceived by some fancied or some real resemblance. 
This picture is mine, and has not been out of my possession tbese 
five-and-twenty years.” 

” Pardon me, sir, it is the picture of my mother, and no other; 
the very picture lost in the ‘ Montauk.’ ” 

The gaze that John Effingham cast upon the young man was 
ghastly; and Paul was about to ring tUe bell, but a gesture of 
denial prevented him. 

” See,” said John Effingham hoarselj’, as he touched a spring in 
the setting, and exposed to view the initials of two names inter- 
woven with hair—” is this, too, yours?” 

Paul looked surpriscid and disappointed. 

“That certainly settles the question; my miniature had no such 
addition; and yet 1 believe that sweet and pensive countenance to be 
the face of my own beloved mother, and ot no one else.” 

.John Effingham struggled to appear calm; and, replacing the 
pictures, he took the key from the dressing-case, and, opening the 
bureau, he took out the secretaire. This he signed for Powis, who 
had the key, to open; throwing himself into a chair, though every- 
thing was done mechanically, as if his mind and body had little or 
no connection with each other. 

” Some accidental resemblance has deceived you as to the mini- 
ature,” he said, while Paul was looking for the proper number 
among the letters of Mr. Monday. ” No — no— -that can not be tlie 
picture of your mother. She left no child. Assheton, did you say, 
was the name of your father?” 

” Assheton— John Assheton— about that, at least, there can have 
been no mistake. This is the number at which we left off— will 
you, sir, or shall 1, read?” 

The other made a sign for Paul to read; looking at the same time 
as it it were impossible for him to discharge that duty himself. 

” This is a letter from the womau who appears" to have been 


HOME AS FOtJlSrH. 


255 

intrusted with the child, to the man Dowse,” said Paul, first glanc- 
ing his eyes over the page; ” it appears to be little else but gossip- 
ha!— what is this 1 see?” 

John Effingham raised himself in his chair, and he sat gazing at 
Paul as one gazes who expects some extraordinary development, 
though of what nature he knew not. 

” This is a singular passage,” Paul continued — ” so much so as 
to need elucidation. ‘ 1 have taken the child with me to get the 
picture from the jeweler who has mended the ring, and the little 
urchin knew it at a glance.’ ” 

What is there remarkable in that? Others besides ourselves 
have had pictures; and tnis child knows its own better than you.” 

” Mr. Effingham, such a thing occurred to myself! It is one of 
those early events of which 1 still retain, have ever retained, a vivid 
recollection. Though little more than an infant at the time, well do 
1 recollect to have been taken in this manner to a jeweler’s, and the 
delight 1 felt at recovering my mother’s picture, that which is now 
lost, after it had not been seen for a month or two.” 

” Paul Blunt — Powis — Assheton,” said John Effingham, speak- 
ing so hoarsely as to be nearly unintelligible,” remain liere a few. 
minutes — 1 will rejoin you.” 

John Effingham arose, and, notwithstanding he rallied all his 
powers, it was with extreme difficulty he succeeded in reaching the 
door, steadily rejecting the offered assistance of Paul, who was at 
a loss what to think of so much agitation in a man usually so self- 
possessed and tranquil. When out of the room John Effingham 
did better, and he proceeded to the library, followed by his owm 
man, whom he had ordered to accompany him with a light. 

” Desire Captain Ducie to give me the favor of his company for 
a moment,” he then said, motioning to the servant to withdraw. 
‘‘You will not be needed any longer.” 

It was but a minute before Captain Ducie stood before him. This 
gentleman was instantly struck with the pallid look and general 
agitation of the person he had come to meet, and he expressed an 
apprehension that he was suddenly taken ill. But a motion of the 
hand forbade his touching the bell-cord, and he waited in silent 
wonder at the scene which he had been so unexpectedly called to 
witness. 

‘‘ A glass of that water, if you please, Capiain Ducie,” said John 
Effingham, endeavoring to smile with gentleman-like courtesy, as 
he made the request, though the efiort caused his countenance to 
appear ghastly again. A little recovered by this beverage he said 
more steadily : 

‘‘ You are the cousin of Powis, Captain Ducie?” 

” We are sisters’ children, sir.” 

‘‘ And your mother is—” 

‘‘ Lady Dunluce— a peeress in her own right.” 

‘‘ But what— her family name?” 

‘‘ Her own family name has been sunk in that of my father, the 
Ducies claiming to be as old and as honorable a family as that from 
which my mother inherits her rank. Indeed, the Dunluce barony 
has gone through so many names, by means of females, that 1 be- 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


256 

lieve tlifire is no intention to revive the original appellation ot the 
family which was first summoned.” 

” You mistake me — your mother — when she married — was — ” 

” Miss Warrender.” 

‘‘1 thank you, sir, and will trouble you no longer,” returned 
John Effingham, rising, and struggling to make his manner second 
the courtesy of his words — ‘‘ 1 have troubled you abruptly — in- 
coherently, 1 fear— your arm — ” 

Captain Ducie stepped hastily forward, and was just in time to 
prevent the other fiom falling senseless on the floor, by receiving 
him in his own arms. 


CHAPTER XXVll. 

What’s Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, 

That he should weep for her? 

Havilet. 

Tiie next morning Paul and Eve were alone in that library which 
had long been the scene of the confidential communications ot the 
Effingham family. Eve had been weeping, nor were Paul’s eyes 
entirely free from the signs ot his having given way to strong sensa- 
tions. Still happiness beamed in the countenances of each, and the 
timid but afleclionate glances with which our heroine returned the 
fond, admiring look of her lover, were anything but distrustful of 
their future felicity. Her hand was in his, and it was often raised 
to his lips, as they pursued the conversation. 

” This is so wonderful,” exclaimed Eve, after one of the frequent 
musing pauses in which both. indulged, “ that 1 can scarcely believe 
myself awake. That you. Blunt, Powis, Assheton, should, after 
all, prove an Effingham!” 

‘‘ And that 1, who have so long thought myself an orphan, should 
And a living father, and he a man like Mr. John Effingham!” 

‘‘ 1 liave long thought that something heavy lay at the honest 
heart of Cousin Jack— you will excuse me, Powis, but 1 shall need 
time to learn to call him by a name of greater respect.” 

” Call him always so, love, for 1 am certain it would pain him to 
meet with any change in jmu. He is your Cousin Jack.” 

‘‘ Nay, he may some day unexpectedly become my father too, as 
he has so wonderfully become yours,” rejoined Eve, glancing archly 
at the glowing face of the delighted young man; ” and then Cousin 
Jack might prove too familiar and disrespectful a term.” 

‘‘ So much stronger does your claim to him appear than mine, that 
I think, when that blessed day shall arrive. Eve, it will convert him 
into my Cousin Jack instead of your father. But call him as you 
may, why do you still insist on calling me Powis?” 

” That name will ever be precious in my eyes! You abridge me 
of my rights, in denying me a change of name. Half the young 
ladies of the country marry for the novelty of being called Mrs. 
Somebody else instead of the Misses the}'- were, while 1 am con- 
demned to remain Eve Effingham for life.” 

“ If you object to the appellation 1 can continue to call myself 
Powis. This has been done so long now as almost to legalize the 
act.” 


HOME AS FOUN’D. 


257 


“ Indeed, no — you are an Effingham, and as an Effingham oiiglit 
you to be known. What a happy lot is mine! Spared even the 
pain of parting with my old friends, at the great occurrence of my 
life, and finding my married home the same as the home of my 
childhood!” 

” 1 owe everything to you, Eve — name, happiness, and even a 
home.” 

” ] know not that. Now that it is known that you are the great- 
grandson of Edward Effingham, 1 think your chance of possessing 
the ‘ Wigwam ’ would be quite equal to my own, even were we to 
look different ways in quest of married happiness. An arrange 
ment of that nature would not be difficult to make, as John Effing- 
ham might easily compensate a daughter for the joss of her house 
and lands by means of those money-lending stocks and bonds ot 
which he possesses so many.” 

” 1 view it differently. You were Mr. my father’s heir— how 

strangely the word father sounds in unaccustomed ears! But you 
were my father’s chosen heir, and I shall owe to you, dearest, in 
addition to the treasures of your heart and faith, my fortune.” 

” Are you so verj^ certain of this, ingrate? Did not Mr. John 
Effingham — Cousin Jack —adopt you as his own even before he knew 
of the natural tie that actually exists between you?” 

‘‘ True, for 1 perceive that you have been made acquainted with 
most of that which has passed. But 1 hope, that in telling you his 

own offer, Mr. that my father did not forget to tell you of the 

terms on which it was accepted?” 

‘‘ He did you ample justice, for he informed me that you stip- 
ulated there should be no altering of wills, but that the unworthy 
heir already chosen should still remain the heir.” 

” And to this Mr. ” 

” Cousin Jack,” said Eve, laughing, for the laugh comes easy to 
the supremely happy. 

‘‘ To this Cousin Jack assented?” 

” Most true, again. The will would not have been altered, for 
your interests were already cared for.” 

” And at the expense of yours, dearest Eve!” 

” It would have been at the expense of my better feelings, Paul, 
had it not been so. However, that will can never do either harm or 
good to any now.” 

‘‘ 1 trust it will remain unchanged, beloved, that 1 may owe as 
much to you as possible.” 

Eve looked kindly at her betrothed, blushed even deeper than the 
bloom jvhich happiness had left on her cheek, and smiled like one 
'who knew more than she cared to express. 

” What secret meaning is concealed behind that look ot por- 
tentous signification?” 

‘‘ It means, Powis, that 1 have done a deed that is almost crim- 
inal. 1 have destroyed a will.” 

” Not my father’s?” 

” Even so —but it was done in his presence, and if not absolutely 
with his consent, with his knowledge. When he informed me of 
your superior rights, 1 insisted on its beiiig done at once, so, should 
any accident occur, you will be heir-at-law, as a matter of course. 

9 


258 


HOME AS EOUEri). 


Cousin Jack affected reluctance, but 1 believe he slept more sweetly 
for the consciousness that this act of justice had been done.” 

” 1 fear he slept little as it was; il was long past midnight before 
1 left him, and the agitation of his spirit was such as to appear awful 
in I he eyes of a son!” 

‘‘ And the promised explanation is to come, to renew his distress! 
Why make it at all? is il not enough tnal we are certain that you 
f.re his child? and for that, have we not the solemn assurance, the 
declaration of almost a dying man!” 

‘‘ Theie should be no shade left over my mother’s fame, h'aults 
there have been, somewhere, but it is painful, oh! how painful! for 
a child to think evil of a mother.” 

‘‘ On this head you are already assured. Your own previous 
knowledge, and John Effingham’s distinct declarations, make your 
mother blameless.” 

‘‘ Beyond question; but this sacrifice must be made to my mother’s 
spirit. It is now nine; the breakfast-bell will soon ring, and then 
we are promised the whole of the melancholy tale. Pray with me, 
Eve, that it may be such as will not wound the ear of a son!” 

Eve took the hand of Paul within both of hers, and kissed it with 
a sort of holy hope, that in its exhibition caused neither blush nor 
shame. Indeed, so bound together were these .young hearts, so 
ample and confiding had been the confessions of both, and so pure 
was their love, that neither regarded such a manifestation of feeling 
differently from what an acknowledgment of a dependence on any 
other sacred principle would have been esteemed. The bell now 
summoned them to the breakfast-table, and Eve, yielding to her sex’s 
timidity, desired Paul to precede her a few minutes, that the sanc- 
tity of their confidence might not be weakened by the observation of 
profane eyes. 

The meal was silent; the discoveiy of the previous night, which 
had been made known to all in the house, by the dechtrations of 
John Effingham as soon as he was restored to his senses. Captain 
Ducie having innocently collected those within hearing to his succor, 
causing a sort of moral suspense that weighed on the vivacity it not 
on the comforts of the whole party, the lovers alone excepted. 

As profound happiness is seldom talkative, the meal was a silent 
one, then; and when it was ended, they who had no lie of blood 
with the parties most concerned with the revelations of the ap- 
proaching interview, delicately separated, making employments and 
engagements that left the family at perfect liberty; while those who 
had been previously notified that their presence would be acceptable, 
silently repaired to the dressing -room* of John Effingham. The lat- 
ter party was composed of Mr. Effingham, Paul, and Eve, only. 
The first passed into his cousin’s 'bedroom, where he had a private 
conference that lasted half an hour. At the end of that time, the 
two others were summoned to join him, 

John Effingham was a strong minded and a proud man, his gov- 
erning fault being the self-reliance that indisposed him to throw him- 
self on a greater power tor the support, guidance, and counsel that 
all need. To humiliation before God, however, he was !iot unused, 
and of late years it had got to be frequent with him, and it was only 
in connection with his fellow-creatures that his repugnance to ad- 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


259 


mittintr even of an equality existed. He felt how much more just, 
intuitive, conscientious even, ^vere his own views than those of 
mankiud in freneral; and he seldom deigned to consult with any as 
to the opinions he ouglit to entertain, or as to the conduct he ouirlit 
to pursue. It is scarcely necessary to say that such a being was one 
of strong and engrossing passions, the impulses frequently proving 
too imperious for the affections, or even for principles. The scene 
that he was now compelled to go through was consequently one 
of sore mortification and self abasement; and yet, feeling its j^istice 
no less than its necessity, and having made up his mind to discharge 
what had now become a duty, his very pride of character led him 
to do it manfully, and with no uncalled-tor reserves. It was a pain- 
ful and humiliating task, notwithstanding; and it requinjd all the. 
self-command, all the sense of right, and all the clear peiception of 
consequences, that one so quick to discriminate could not avoid per- 
ceiving, to enable him to go through it with the required steadiness 
and connection. 

John EiiinghaQi received Paul and Eve, seated in an easy-chair; 
for, while he could not be said to be ill, it was evident that his very 
frame had been shaken by the events and emotions of the few pre- 
ceding hours. He gave a hand to each, and drawing Eve affection- 
ately to him, he imprinted a kiss on a cheek that was burning, 
though it paled and reddened in quick succession, the heralds of the 
tumultuous thoughts within. The look he gave Paul was kind and 
welcome, while a hectic spot glowed on each cheek, betraying that 
his presence excited pain as well as pleasure. A long pause suc- 
ceeded this meeting, when John Effingham broke the silence. 

“ There can now be no manner of question, my dear Paul,” he 
said, smiling affectionately but sadly as he looked at the young man, 
“ about 5mur being my son. The letter written by John Assheton 
to your mother, after the separation of your parents, would settle 
that important point, had not the names, and the other facts that 
have come to our knowledge, already convinced me of the precious 
truth; for precious and very deaf to me is the knowledge that I am 
the father of so worthy a child. You must prepare yourself to hear 
things that it will not be pleasant for a son to listen — ” 

” No, no. Cousin Jack— dear Cousin Jack!” cried Eve, throwing 
herself precipitately into her kinsman’s arms, ” we will hear noth- 
ing of the sort. It is sufficient that 5’ou are Paul’s father, and we 
wish to know no more — will hear no more.” 

” This is like yourself. Eve, but it will not answer what I conceive 
to be the dictates of duty, Paul had two parents, and not the slight- 
est suspicion ought to rest on one of them, in order to spare the 
feelings of the other. In showing me this kindness you are treating 
Paul inconsiderately.” 

” 1 beg. dear sir, you will not think too much of me, but entirely 
consult your own judgment — your own sense of— in short, dear 
father, that you will consider yourself before your son,” 

” 1 thank you, my children; what a word and what a novel sen- 
sation is this for me, Ned ! 1 feel all your kindness; but it you would 
consult my peace of mind and wish me to regain my self-respect, 
you will allow me to disburden my soul of the weight tliat oppresses 
it. This is strong language; but while I have no confessions of de- 


260 


HOME AS EOUKH. 


liberate crimiaality or of positive vice to make, 1 feel it to be baldly 
too stiong for ibe facts. My tale will be very short, and 1 crave 
your patieuce, Ned. while 1 expose my former weakness to these 
young people,” Here John Effingham paused, as if to recollect 
himself; then he proceeded with a seriousness of manner that caused 
every syllable he uttered to tell on the ears of his listeners. ” It is 
well known to your father. Eve, though it wiil probably be new to 
you,” he said, ‘‘ that 1 felt a passion lor your sainted mother, such 
as few men ever experience for any of your sex. Your father and 
myself were suitors tor her favor at the same time, though 1 can 
scarcely say, Edward, that any feeling of rivalry entered intd the 
competition.” 

‘‘ You do me no more than justice, John, for if the affection of 
my beloved Eve could cause me grief, it was because it brought 
you pain.” 

” 1 had the additional mortification of approving of the choice she 
made; for, certainly as respected her own happiness, your mother 
did more wisely in confiding it to the regulated, mild, and manly 
virtues of your father, than in placing her hopes on one as eccentric 
and violent as myself.” 

” This is injustice, John. You may have been positive, and a 
little stern at times, but never violent, and least of all with a 
woman.” 

” Call it what you will, it unfitted me to make one so meek, gentle, 
and yet high-souled, as entirely happy as she deserved to be, and as 
you did make her, while she remained on earth. I had the courage 
to stay and learn that your father wms accepted (though the marriage 
was deferred two years in consideration for my feelings), and then 
with a heart in which mortified pride, wounded love, a resentment 
that was aimed rather against myself than against your parents, 1 
quitted home with a desperate d('termination never to rejoin my 
family again. This resolution 1 did not own to myself even, but it 
lurked in my intentions unowned, festering like a mortal disease; 
and it caused me when I burst away from the scene of happiness 
of which 1 had been a compelled witness, to change m}" name, and 
to make several inconsistent and extravagant arrangements to 
abandon my native country even.” 

” Poor John!” exclaimed his cousin, involuntarily; ” this would 
have been a sad blot on our felicity had we known it!” 

” 1 was certain of that, even when most writhing under the blow 
you had so unintentionally inflicted, Ned; but the passions are 
tyrannical and inconsistent masters. 1 took my mother’s name, 
clianged my servant, and avoided those parts of the country where 
1 w'as known. At this time 1 feared for my own reason, and the 
thought crossed my mind, that by makihg a sudden marriage 1 
might supplant the old passion, which was so near destroying me, 
by some of that gentler affection which seemed to render you so 
blest, Edward.” 

“Nay, John, this was itself a temporary tottering of the reason- 
ing faculties.” 

“ It w'as simply the effect of passions over wJrich reason had never 
been taught to exercise a sufficient influence. Chance brought me ac- 
quainted with Miss Vvarrender, in one of the Southern Slates, and 


HOME AS' FOUHD. 261 

she promised, as 1 taucied, to realize all my wild schemes of happi- 
ness and resentment.” 

‘‘ Resentment, John?” 

“ 1 tear 1 must confess it, Edward, though it were anger against 
myself. 1 first made Miss VVarrender’s acquaintance as John Asshe- 
ton, and some months had passed before 1 determined to try the 
tearful experiment 1 have nientioned. ISlie was young, beautiful, 
well-born, virtuous, and good; it she had a fault it was her high 
spirit, not high tem.per, but she was high-souleLl and proud.” 

“ Thank God for this!” burst from the inmost soul of Paul, with 
unrestrainable feeling. 

‘‘You have little to apprehend, my son, on the subject of your 
mother’s character; if not perfect, she was wanting in no womanly 
virtue, and might, nay, ought to have made any reasonable mail 
happy. My ofier was accepted, for 1 found her heart disengaged. 
Miss Warreuder was not afiluent, and in addition to the otber'un- 
justifiable motives that influenced me, 1 thought there would be a 
satisfaction in believing that 1 had been chosen for myself rather 
than for my wealth. Indeed, 1 had got to be distrustful and un- 
generous. and then 1 disliked the confession of the weakness that 
had induced me to change my name. The simple, 1 might almost 
say loose, laws of this country, on the subject of marriage, removed 
all necessity for explanations, there being no bans or license neces- 
sary, and the Christian name only being used in the ceremony. We 
were married, therefore, but 1 was not so unmindful of the lights 
of others as to neglect to procure a certificate, under a promise of 
secrecy, in my own name. By going to the place where the cere- 
mony was performed, you will also find the marriage of John 
Effingham and Mildred \Varrender duly registered .in the books of 
the church to which the officiaf,ing clergyman belonged. So far 1 
did what justice required, though, with a motiveless infatuation tor 
which 1 can now hardly account — which can not be accounted for 
except by ascribing it to the inconsistent cruelty of passion— -1 con- 
cealed my real name from her, with whom there should have been 
no concealment. 1 fancied, I tried to fancy, 1 was no impostor, as 1 
wms of the family 1 represented myself to be, b}'^ the mother’s side; 
and 1 wished to believe that my peace would easily be made when 
1 avowed myself to be the man 1 really was. I had found Miss 
Warrender and her sister living with a well-intentioned but weak 
aunt, and with no male relative to make those inquiries which 
would so naturally have suggested themselves to persons of ordi- 
nary worldly prudence. It is true, 1 had become known to them 
under favorable circumstances, and they had good reason to believe 
me an Assheton from some accidental evidence that I possessed, 
w'hich unanswerably proved my affinity to that family, without be- 
traying my true name. But there is so little distrust in this coun- 
try, that by keeping at a distance from the places in which 1 was 
personally known, a life might have passed without exposure.” 

‘‘This was all wrong, dear Cousin Jack,” said Eve, taking his 
hand and affectionately kissing it, while her face kindled with a 
sense of her sex’s rights, ” and 1 should be unfaithful to my woman- 
hood were 1 to say otherwise. You had entered into the most sol- 
emn of all human* contracts, and evil is the omen when such an cn- 


262 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


gagement is veiled by any untruth. But still, one would think you 
might have been happy with a virtuous and affectionate wife!” 

” Alas! it is but a hopeless experiment to marry one, while the 
heart is still yearning toward another. Confidence came too late; 
for, discovering my unhappiness, Mildred extorted a tardy confes- 
sion from me; a confession of all but the concealment of lire true 
name; and justly wounded at the deception of which she had been 
the dupe, and yielding to the impulses of a high and generous spirit., 
she announced to me that she was unwilling to continue the wife of 
any man on such terms. We parted, and I hastened into the South- 
western States, where 1 passed the next twelvemonth in traveling, 
hurrying from place to place, in the vain hope of obtaining peace 
of mind. 1 plunged into the prairies, and most of the time men- 
tioned was lost to me, as respects the world, in the company of 
hunters and trappers.” 

” This, then, explains your knowledge of that section of the coun- 
try,” exclaimed Mr. Effingham, ‘‘ for which I have never been able 
to account ! We thought 3'ou among your old friends in Carolina 
all that time.” 

” Iso one knew where 1 had secreted myself, for 1 passed under 
another feigned name, and had no servant, even. 1 had, however, 
sent an address to Mildred where a letter would find me; for 1 had 
begun to feel a sincere affection for her, though it might not have 
amounted to passion, and looked forward to being reunited when 
her wounded feelings had time to regain their tranquillity. The ob- 
ligations of wedlock are too seiious to be lightly thrown aside, and 
1 felt persuaded that neither of aUs would be satisfied in the end 
without discharging the duties of the state into which we had en- 
tered.” 

‘‘ And why did you not hasten to 'your poor wife, Cousin Jack,” 
Eve innocently demanded, ” as soon as you returned to the settle- 
ments?” 

” Alas! my dear girl, 1 found letters at St. Louis announcing her 
death. Nothing wasjsaid of any child, nor did I in the least suspect 
that I was about to become a father. When Mildred died, 1 thought 
all the ties, all the obligations, all the traces of my ill-judged mar- 
riage were extinct; and the course taken by her relations, of whom, 
in this countr}’-, there remained very few, left me no inclination to 
proclaim it. By observing silence, 1 continued to pass as a bache- 
lor, of course; though had there been an}’- appareni reason for avow- 
ing what had occurred, 1 think no one who knows me can suppose 
1 would have shrunk from doing so.” 

‘‘May 1 inquire^ my dear sir,” Paul asked, with a timidity of 
manner that betrayed bow tenderly he felt it necessary to touch on 
the subject at all--” may 1 inquire, my dear sir, what course was 
taken by my mother’s relatives?” 

” 1 never knew Mr. Warrender, my wife’s brother, but he had the 
reputation of being a haughty and exacting man. Ills letters were 
not friendly; scarcely tolerable; for he affected to believe 1 had 
given a false address at the West, when 1 was residing in the Mid- 
dle States, and he threw out hints that to me were then inexplicable, 
but which the letters left with me by Paul have sufficiently ex- 


HOME AS FOUND. 263 

plained. 1 thougM him ciuel and unfeeling at the time, but he had 
an excuse for his conduct.” 

“ Which was, sir—?” Paul eagerly inquired. 

” 1 perceive by the letters you have given me, my son, that your 
mother’s family had imbibed the opinion that 1 was John Asshe- 
ton, of Lancaster, a man of singular humors, who had made an un- 
fortunate marriage in Spain, ana whose wife, 1 believe, is still living 
in Paris, though lost to herself and her friends. My kinsman lived 
retired, and never recovered the blow. As he was one of the only 
persons of the name who could have married your mother, her rela- 
tives appear to have taken up the idea that he had been guilty of 
bigamy, and, of course, that Paul was illegitimate. Mr. Warrender, 
by tiis letters, appears even to have had an interview with this per- 
son, and, on mentioning his wife, was rudely repulsed from the 
house. It was a proud family, and Mildred 'being dead, the con- 
cealment of the birth of her child was resorted to, as a means of 
averting a fancied disgrace. As for myself, 1 call the all-seeing eye 
of God to witness, that the thought of my being a parent never 
crossed my mind until 1 learned that a John Assheton was the father 
of Paul, and that the miniature of Mildred Warrender, that 1 re- 
ceived at the period of our engagement, was the likeness of his 
mother. The simple declaration of Captain Ducie concerning the 
family name of his mother removed all doubt.” 

” But, Cousin Jack, did not the mention of Lady Dunluce, of the 
Ducies, and of Paul’s connections, excite curiosity?” 

‘‘ Concerning what, dear? 1 could have no curiosity about a child 
of whose existence 1 was ignorant. 1 did know that the Warrenders 
had pretensions to both rank and fortune in England, but never 
heard the title, and cared nothing about money that would not 
probably be Mildred’s. Of General Ducie 1 never even heard, as he 
married after my separation; and subsequently to the leceipt ot my 
brother-in-law’s letters, 1 wished to forget the existence of the iani- 
ily. 1 went to Europe, and remained abroad seven years, and as this 
was at a time when the continent was closed against the English, 1 
was not in a way to hear anything on the subject. On my return, 
my wife’s aunt was dead; the last of my wife’s brothers was dead; 
her sister must then have been Mrs, Ducie; no one mentioned the 
Warrenders, all traces of whom were nearly lost in this country, and 
to me the subject was too painful to be either sought or dwelt on. 
it is a curious fact, that in 1829, during our late visit to the old 
world, 1 ascended the Nile with General Ducie for a traveling com- 
panion, We met at Alexandria, and went to the cataracts and re- 
turned in company. He knew me as John Effingham, an American 
traveler of fortune, if of no particular merit, and 1 knew him as an 
agreeable English general officer. He had the reserve ot an English- 
man of rank, and seldom spoke of his family, and it was only on 
our reiurn that 1 found he had letters from his wife. Lady Dun- 
luce; but little did 1 dream that Lady Dunluce was Mabel Warren- 
der. How often are we on the very verge of important information, 
and yet live on in ignorance and obscurity! The Ducies appear 
finally to have arrived at the opinion that the marriage was legal, 
and that no reproach rests on the birth of Paul, by the inquiries 
made concerning the eccentric John Assheton.” 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


204 

“ They fancied, in common with niy uncle Warrender, for a Ions: 
lime, that the John Assheton whom you have mentioned, sir,” said 
Paul, was my father. But some accidental information, at a late 
day, convinced them of their error, and then they naturally enough 
supposed that it was the onlj'- other John Assheton that couhi be 
lieard of, who passes, and probahiy with sufficient reason, for a 
bachelor. This latter gentleman 1 have myself always supposed to 
be my father, though he has treated two or three letters 1 have wrib 
ten to him with the indifference with which one would be apt to 
treat the pretensions of an impostor. Pride has prevented me from 
attempting to renew the correspondence lately.” 

‘‘It is John Assheton, of Bristol, my mother’s brother’s son, as 
inveterate a bachelor as is to be found in the Union!” said John 
Effingham, smiling in spite of the grave subject and deep emotions 
that had so lately been uppermost in his thoughts. ‘‘ He must have 
supposed your letters were an attempt at mystification on the part 
of some of his jocular associates, and 1 am surprised that he thought 
it necessary to answer them at all.” 

” Ho did answer but one, and that reply certainly had something 
of the character 3 '-ou suggest, sir. 1 freely forgive him, now 1 
understand the truth, though his apparent contempt gave me many 
a bitter pang at the time. 1 saw Mr. Assheton once in public and 
observed him well, for, strange as it is, I have been thought to re- 
semble him,” 

” Why strange? Jack Assheton and myself have, or rather had, 
a strong family likeness to each other, and, though the thought is 
new to me, 1 can now easily trace this resemblance to myself. It is 
rather an Assheton than an Effingham look, though the latter is not 
wanting,” 

‘‘These explanations are very clear and satisfactory, ” observed 
Mr. Effingham, ” and leave little doubt that Paul is the child of John 
Effingham and Mildreil Warrender; but they would be beyond all 
cavil, were the infancy of the bo}^ placed in an equally plain point 
of view, and could the reasons be knowm why the Warrenders aban- 
doned him to the care of those who yielded him up to Mr. Powis,” 

‘‘1 see but little obscurity in that, ’ returned John Effingham. 

” Paul is unquestionably the child referred to in the papers left by 
poor Monday, to the care of whose mother he was intrusted, until, 
in his fourth year, she yielded him to Mr. Powis, to get rid of 
trouble and expense, while she kept the annuity granted by Lady 
Dunluce. The names appear in the concluding letters; and had we 
read the latter through at first, we should earlier have arrived at the 
safiie conclusion. Could we find the man called Dowse, who ap- 
pears to have instigated the fraud, and who married Mrs. Monday, 
the whole thing would be explained.” 

‘‘ Of this 1 am aware,” said Paul, for he and John Effingham had 
perused the remainder of the Monday papers together, "^af ter the 
fainting-fit of the latter, as soon as his strength would admit ; ‘‘ and 
Captain Truck is now searching for an old passenger of his who 1 
think will furnish the clew. Should we get this evidence, it would 
settle all legal questions.” 

” Such questions will never he raised,” said John Effingham, 
holding out his hand affectionately to his son,- ‘‘you possess the 


HOME AS EOUMD. 


265 


Tiiarriage- certificate given to your mother, and 1 avow myself to 
have been tbe person therein styled .John Assheton. This fact I have 
indorsed on the back of the certificate; while here is another given 
to me in my proper name, with the indorsement made by the 
clergyman that I passed by another name at the ceremony.” 

‘‘ Such a man, Cousin Jack, was unworthy of his cloth!” said 
Eve, with energy. 

” 1 do not think so, my child. He was innocent of the original 
deception; this certificate was given after the death of my wire, and 
might do good, whereas it could do no harm. The clergyman in 
question is now a bishop, and is still living. He may give evidence, 
if necessary, to the legality of the marriage.” 

And the clergyman by whom 1 was baptized is also alive,” cried 
Paul, ” and has never lost sight of me. He was, in part, in the con- 
fidence of my mother’s family, and even after 1 was adopted by Mr. 
Powis he kept me in view as one of his little Christians, asheternied 
me. It was no less a person than Dr. .” 

“ This alone would make out the connection and identity,” said 
Mr. Efiiugham, ‘‘without the aid of the Monday witnesses. The 
whole obscurity’ has arisen from John’s change of name, and his 
ignorance of the fact that his wife had a child. The Ducies appear 
to have haa plausible reasons, too, tor distrusting the legality ot the 
marriage; but all is now clear, and as a large estate is conceined, 
we will take care that no further obscurity shall rest over the afiair.” 

” The part connected with theestateisalready secured, ’’said John 
Effingham, looking at Eve with a smile. ” An American can al- 
ways make a will, and one that contains but a single bequest is soon 
written. Mine is executed, and Paul Effingham, my son by my 
marriage with Mildred Warrender, and lately l^nown in the United 
States Navy as Paul Powis, is duly declared my heir. This will 
suffice for all legal purposes, though we shall have large draughts 
of gossip to swallow.” 

‘‘ Cousin Jack!” 

Daughter Eve!” 

Who has given cause for it?” 

*‘ He who commenced one of the most sacred of his earthly duties 
with an unjustifiable deception. The wisest way to meet it will be 
to make our avowals of the relationship as open as possible.” 

‘‘ Isee no necessity, John, of enteiing into details,” said Mr. Effing- 
ham; “ you were married young, and lost your wife within a year 
of your marriage. She was a Miss Warrender, and the sister of 
Lady Dunluce; Paul and Ducie are declared cousins, and the former 
proves to be your son, of whose existence you were ignorant. No 
one will presume to question any ot us, and it really strikes me that 
all rational people ought to be satisfied with this simple account of 
the matter.” 

“ Eather!” exclaimed Eve, with her pretty little hands raised in 
the attitude of surprise, ” in what capital, even, in what part of the 
world, would such a naked account appease curiosity ? 31uch less 
will It suffice here, where every human being, gentle or simple, 
learned or ignorant, refined or vulgar, fancies himself a constitu- 
tional judge of all the acts of all his fellow-creatures!” 

‘‘We have at least the consolation of knowing that no revelations 


266 


HOME AS POUND. 


will make tke matter any worse or any belter,” said Paul, “ as the 
gossips would tell their own tale, in every case, though its falsehood 
were as apparent as the noonday sun. A gossip is essentially a liar, 
and truth is the last ingredient that is deemed necessary to his other 
qualifications; indeed, a well-authenticated fact is a death-blow to a 
gossip, i hope, my deal sir, you will say no more than that I am 
your son, a circumstance much too precious to me to be omitted.” 

John Effingham looked affectionately at the noble young man 
whom he had so long esteemed and admired; and the tears forced 
themselves to his eyes as he felt the supreme happiness that can 
alone gladden a parent's heart. 


CHAPTER XXVlll. 

For my part, I care not; I say little; but when the time comes, there shall he 
smiles. — Nym. 

Although Paul Effingham was right, and Eve Effingham was 
also right, in their opinions of the art of gossiping, they both forgot 
one qualifying circumstance that, arising from different causes, 
produces the same effect equally in a capital and in a province. In 
the first, marvels form a nine days’ wonder from the hurry of events; 
in the latter, from the hurry of talking. When it was announced 
in Templeton that Mr. John Effingham had discovered a son in Mr. 
Powis, as that son had conjectured, everything but the truth was 
rumored and believed in .connection with the circumstance. Of 
course it excited a good deal, of natural and justifiable curiosity and 
surprise in the trained and intelligent, for John Effingham had 
passed for a confirmed bachelor; but they were generally content to 
suffer a family to have feelings and incidents that were not to be 
paraded before a neighborhood. Having some notions themselves 
of the delicac.y and sanctity of the domestic affections, they were 
willing to respect the same sentiments in others. But these few ex- 
cepted, the village was in a tumult of surmises, reports, contradic- 
tions, confirmations, rebutters, and sur-rebutters, for a fortnight. 
Several village eUganU, whose notions of life were obtained in the 
valley in which they were born, and who had turned up their noses 
at the quiet, reserved, gentleman-like Paul, because he did not 
happen to suit their tustes, were disposed to resent his claim to be 
his father’s son, as if it were an injustice done to their rights; such 
commentators on men and things uniformly bringing everything 
down to the standard of self. Then the approaching marriages ^t 
the AVigwam had to run the gantlet, not only of village and county 
criticisms, - but that of the mighty Emporium itself, as it is the 
fashion to call the confused aiffi tasteless collection of flaring red 
brick houses, marten-box churches, and colossal taverns, that stand 
on the island of Manhattan; the discussion of marriages being a 
topic of never-ending interest in that well-regulated social organiza- 
tion, after the subjects of dollars, lots, and wines have been duly 
exhausted; Sir George Templemore was transformed into the 
Honorable Lord George Templemore, and Paul’s relationship to 
Lady Dunluce was converted, as usual, into his being the heir’ 
apparent of a touchy of that name; Eve’s preference for a nobleman, 


HOME AS FOUKD. 


267 

»s a matter of course, to the aristocratical tastes imbibed during a 
residence in foreign countries; Eve, the intellectual, feminine, in- 
structed Eve, whose European associations, while they had taught 
her to prize the refinement, grace, retenue, and tone of an advanced 
condition of society, had also taught her to despise its mere cover- 
ing and glitter! But as there is no protection against falsehood, so 
is there no reasoning with ignorance. 

A sacied few, at the head of whom were Mr. Stebdfast Dodge and 
Mrs, Widow-Bewitched Abbott, treated the matter as one of greater 
gravity, and as possessing an engrossing interest for the entire com- 
munity. 

“For my part, Mr. Dodge,” said Mrs. Abbott, in one of their 
frequent conferences, about a fortnight after the eclaircissement of 
the last chapter, ” I do not believe that Paul Powis is Paul Effing- 
ham at all. You say that you knew him by the name of Blunt, 
when he was a younger man?” 

” Certainly, ma’am. He passed universally by that name former- 
ly, and it may be considered as at least extraordinary that he should 
have had so many aliases. The truth of the matter is, Mrs. Abbott, 
if truth could be come at, which 1 always contend is very difficult 
in the present state of the world — ” 

” You never said a jusler thing, Mr. Dodge!” interrupted the 
lady, feelings impetuous as hers seldom waiting for the completion 
of a sentence. ” 1 never can get hold of the truth of anything now; 
you may remember you insinuated that Mr. John Effingham him- 
self was to be married to Eve, and, lo and behold! it turns out to be 
his son!” 

” The lady may have changed her mind. Mis. Abbott; she gets 
the same estate with a younger man.” 

” She’s monstrous disagreeable, and I’m sure it will be a relief to 
the whole village when she is married, let it be to the father or to 
the son. Now, do you know, Mr. Dodge, 1 have been in a desperate 
taking about one thing, and that is to find that, bony fie-dy, the two 
old Efiinghams are not actually brothers! 1 knew that they called 
each other Cousin Jack and Cousin Ned, and that Eve affected to 
call her uncle Cotisin Jack, but then she has so many affectations, 
and the old people are so foreign, that I looked upon all that as 
mere pretense; I said to myself a neighborhood ought to know better 
about a man’s family than he can know himself, and the neighbor- 
hood all declared they were brothers; and yet it turns out, after all, 
that they are only cousins.” 

” Yes, 1 do believe that, for once, the family was right in that 
matter, and the public mistaken.” 

” Well, 1 should like to know who has a better right to be mis- 
taken than the public, Mr. Dodge. This is a free country, and if the 
people can’t sometimes be vt^rong, what is the mighty use of their 
freedom? We are all sinful wretches, at the best, and it is vain to 
look for anything but vice from sinners.” 

” Nay, my dear i\Irs. Abbott, you are too hard on yourself, for 
everybody allows that you are as exemplary as you are devoied to 
your religious duties.” 

“Oh! 1 was not speaking particularly of myself, sir; 1 am no 
egotist ill such things, and wish lo leave my owm imperfections to 


268 


HOME AS EOUHD. 


the charity of my friends and neighbors. But, do you think, Mr. 
Dodge, that a marriage between Paul Effingham, for so, 1 suppose, 
he must be called, and Eve Effingham, will be legal? Can’t it be 
set aside, and if that should be the case, wouldn’t the fortune go to 
the public?” 

” It ought to be so, my dear ma’am, and 1 trust the day is not 
distant when it will be so. The people are beginning to understand 
their rights, and another century will not pass before they will en- 
force them by the necessary penal statutes. We have got matters so 
now, that a man can no longer indulge in the aristocratic and selfish 
desire to make a will, and, take my word for it, we shall not stop 
until we brins: everything to the proper standard. ” 

The reader is not to suppose, trom his language, that Mr. Dodge 
was an agrarian, or that be looked forward to a division of properly 
at some future day; for, possessing in his own person already more 
than what could possibly fall to an individual share, he had not the 
smallest desire to lessen its amount by a general division. In point 
of fact, he did not know his own meaning, except as he felt envy of 
all above nim, in which, in truth, was to be found the whole secret 
of his principles, his impulses, and his doctrines. Anything that 
would pull down those whom education, habits, fortune, or tastes, 
had placed in positions more conspicuous than his own, was. in his 
eyes, reasonable and just — as anything that would serve him, in 
person, the same ill turn, would have been tyranny and oppression. 
The institutions of America, like everything human, have their bad 
as well as their good side; and while we firmly believe in the relative 
superiority of the latter, as compared with other systems, we should 
fail of accomplishing the end set before us in this work did we not 
exhibit, in strong colors, one of the most prominent consequences that 
has attended the entire destruction of factitious personal distinctions 
in the country, which has certainly aided in bringing out in bolder 
relief than common, the prevalent disposition in man to covet that 
wiiich is the possession of another, and to decry merits that are un- 
attainable. 

” Well, I rejoice to hear this,” returned Mrs. Abbott, whose prin- 
ciples were of the same loose school as those of her companion, ” for 
1 think no one should have rights but those who have exnerienced 
religion, if you would keep vital religion in a countiy. There goes 
that old sea-lion. Truck, and his fishing associate, the commodore, 
wu'th their lines and poles, as usual, Mr. Dodge; 1 beg you will call 
to them, for 1 long to hear what the first can have to say about his 
beloved Efflnghams, now.” 

Mr, Dodge complied, and the navigator of the ocean and the navi- 
gator of the lake were soon seated in Mrs. Abbott’s little parlor, 
wTiich might be styled the focus of gossip, near those who W'ere so 
latel^y its sole occupants. 

” This is wonderful news, gentlemen,” commenced Mrs. Abbott, 
as soon as the bustle of the entrance had subsided. ” Mr. Powis is 
Mr. Effingham, and it seems that Miss Effingham is to become Mrs. 
Effingham. Miracles will never cease, and 1 look upon this as one 
of the most surprising of my time.” 

“Just so, ma’am,” said the commodore, winking his eye, and 
giving the usual flourish with a hand; ” your time has not been iliat 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


269 


oi a clay neither, and Mr. Powis has reason to rejoice that he is tlie 
hero of such a history. For my part, 1 could not have been more 
astonished were 1 to bring up the sogdollager with a trout-hook, 
having a cheese-paring for the bait.” 

‘‘ 1 understand,” continued the lady, “ that there are doubts after 
all, whether this miracle be really a true miracle. It is hinted that 
Mr. Powis is neither Mr. Effingham nor Mr. Powis, but that he is 
actually a Mr. Blunt. Do you happen to know anything of the 
matter. Captain Truck?” 

” t have been introduced to him, ma’am, by all three names, and 
1 consider him an acquaintance in each character. 1 can assure 
you, moreover, that he is A No. 1, on whichever tack you take him; 
a man who carries a weather helm in the midst ot his enemies.” 

‘‘ Well, 1 do not consider it a very great recommendation for one 
to have enemies at all. Now, 1 dare say, Mr. Doage, you have not 
an enemy on earth?” 

” 1 should be sorry to think that 1 had, Mrs. Abbott. 1 am every 
man’s friend, particularly the poor man’s friend, and 1 should sup- 
pose that every, man ought to be my friend. 1 hold the whole human 
family to be brethren, and that they ought to live together as such.” 

“ Very true, sir; quite true — we are all sinners and ought to looK 
favorably on each other’s failings. It is no business ot mine— 1 say 
it is no business ot ours, Mr, Dodge, who Miss Eve Effingham mar- 
ries; but were she my daughter, 1 do think 1 should not like her to 
have three family names, and to keep her own in the bargain!” 

‘‘ The Effinghams hold their heads very much up, though it is not 
easy to see why; but so they do, and the more names the better, 
perhaps, for such people,’' returned the editor. ‘‘For m}’’ part, 1 
treat them with condescension, just as 1 do everjffiody else; for it is 
a rule with me. Captain Truck, to make use of the same deportment 
to a king on his throne as 1 would to a beggar in the street.” 

‘‘ Merely to show that you do not feel yourself to be above your 
betters. We have many such philosophers in this country ” 

‘‘ Just so,” said the commodore, 

‘‘ I wish 1 knew,” resumed Mrs. Abbott; for there existed in her 
head, as well as in that of Mr. Dodge, such a total confusion on the 
subject of deportment, that neither saw nor felt the cool sarcasm of 
the old sailor; ‘‘ 1 wish 1 knew, now, whether Eve Effingham has 
leally been regenerated! W^hat is your diDinion, commodore?” 

‘‘ Re-what, ma’am,” said the commodore, who was not conscious 
of ever having heard the word before; for, in his Sabbaths on the 
water, where he often worshiped God devoutly in his heart, the lan- 
guage of the professedly pious was never heard; ‘‘ 1 can only say 
she is as pretty a skiff as floats, but 1 can tell you nothing about 
resuscitation— indeed, 1 never heard ot her having been drowned.” 

‘‘ Ah, Mrs. Abbott, the very best friends of the Effinghams will 
not maintain that they are pious. I do not wish to be invidious, or 
to say unneighborly things; but were 1 upon oath, 1 could testify to 
a great many things, which would unqualifiedly show that none of 
them have eVer experienced.” 

‘‘ Now, Mr. Dodge, you know how much 1 dislike scandal,” the 
widow-bewitched cried, affectedly, ‘‘and 1 can not tolerate such a 


HOME AS EOUISTD. 


270 

sweeping charge. 1 insist on Ihe proofs of what you say, in which, 
no doubt, these gentlemen will join me.” 

By proofs, Mrs. Abbott meant allegations. 

” Well, ma’am, since 3mu insist on my proving what 1 have said, 
you shall not be disappointed. In the firsl place, then, they read 
their family pra^^ers out ot a book.” 

• “Ay, ay,” put in the captain; “but that merely shows they 
have some education; it is done everywhere.” 

“ lour pardon, sir; no people but the Catholics and the church 
people commit this impiety. The idea of reading to the Deity, Mrs. 
Abbott, is particularly shocking to a pious soul.” 

‘‘As if the Lord stood in need of letters! That is very bad, 1 
allow; tor at family prayers a form becomes mockery.” 

‘‘ Yes, ma’am; but what do you think ot cards?” 

‘‘ Cards!” exclaimed Mrs. Abbolt, holding up her pious hands in 
holy horror. 

“ Even so; foul pasteboard, marked with kings and queens,” said 
the captain. ‘‘ Why, this is worse than a couimon sin, being un- 
qualifiedly anti-republican.” 

‘‘ I confess 1 did not expect this! I had heard that Eve Effingham 
was guilty of indiscretions, but 1 did not think she was so lost to 
virtue as to touch a card. Oh! Eve Etfiugliam, Eve Effingham, 
for what is your poor diseased soul destined!” 

” She dances, too, 1 suppose you know that,” continued Mr. 
Dodge, who, finding his popularily a little on the wane, had joined 
the meeting himself, a few weeks before, and v/ho did not fail to 
manifest the zeal ot a new convert. 

‘‘ Dances!” repeated Mrs. Abbott, in holy horror. 

” Real fi-diddle-de-di!” echoed Captain Truck. 

‘‘ Just so,” put in the commodore; ‘‘ 1 have seen it with my own 
eyes. But, Mrs. Abbott, 1 feel bound to tell you that imur own 
daughter — ”. 

” Biansy-Alzumy-Anne!” exclaimed the mother, in alarm. 

‘‘Just so; My-auntj'-all-suit-me-Auue, if that is her name. Do 
you know, ma’am, that 1 have seen j^our own blessed daughter, my- 
aunty-Anne, do a worse thing even than dancing*’” 

‘‘ Commodore, you are awful! What could a child of mine do 
that is worse than dancing?” 

‘‘ Why, ma’am, it you will hear all, it is my duty to tell you. I 
saw Aunt}'-- Anne ” (the commodore was really ignorant of the girl's 
name) ‘‘ jump a skipping-rope yesterday morning, between the hours 
of seven and eight. As 1 hope ever to see the sogdollager again, 
ma’am, 1 aid!” 

‘‘ And do you call this as bad as dancing?” 

‘‘ Much worse, ma’am, to my motion. It is jumping about witb- 
oiit music, and without any grace, either, particularly as it was 
performed by IMy-auntie-Anne.” 

*‘ You are given to light jokes. Jumping the skipping-rope is not 
forbidden in the Bible.” 

-‘‘Just so; nor is dancing, it 1 know anything about it; nor, for 
that matter, cards.” 

‘‘ But waste of time is; a sinful waste ot time; and evil passions, 
and all unrighteousness.” 


HOME AS EOUNH. 


271 

“Just SO. My-aiuily-Anue was going to tbe pump lor water— I 
dare say you sent her — and she was misspending her time; and as 
for evil passions, she did not enjoy the hop until she and your neigh- 
bor’s daughter h^d pulled each other’s hair for the rope, as it they 
had been two she-dragons. Take my word tor it, ma’am, it wanted 
for nothing to make it sin of the purest water, but a cracked fiddle.’’ 

While the commodore was holding Mrs. Abbott at ba}'’ in this 
manner. Captain Truck, who had given him a wink to that effect, 
was employed in playing ofl; a practical joke at the expense of the 
widow. It was one of the standing amusements of these worthies, 
who had got to be sworn friends and constant associates, after they 
had caught as many fish as they wished, to retire to the favorite 
spring, light, the one his cigar, the other his pipe, mix their grog, 
and then relieve their ennui, when tired of discussing men and 
things, by playing cards on a particular stump. Now, it happened 
that the captain had the identical pack which had been used on ail 
such occasions in his pocket, as was evident in the tact that the cards 
were nearly as distinctly marked on their backs as on their faces. 
These cards he showed secretly to his companion, and when the at- 
tention of Mrs. 'Abbott was altogether engaged in expecting the ter- 
rible announcement of her daughter’s errors, the captain slipped 
them. Kings, queens, and knaves, high, low, jack, and the game, 
without regard to rank, into the lady’s work-basket. As soon as this 
feat was successfully performed, a sign was given to the commodore 
that the conspiracy was effected, and that disputant in theology 
gradually began to give ground, while he continued to maintain that 
jumping the rope was a sin, though it might be one of a nominal 
class. There is little doubt, had he possessed a smattering of phrases, 
a greater command of biblical learning, and more zeal, that the 
fisherman might have established a new shade of the Christian faith; 
for, while mankind still persevere in disregarding the plainest man- 
dates of God, as respects humility, the charities, and obedience, 
nothing seems to afford them more delight than to add to the cata- 
logue of the offenses against His divine supremacy. It was perhaps 
lucky for the commodore, who was capital at casting a pickerel line, 
but who usually settled his polemics ith the fist when hard pushed, 
that Captain Truck found leisure to come to the rescue. 

“ I’m amazed, ma’am,” said the honest packet-master, “that a 
woman of your sanctity should deny that jumping the rope is a sin, 
for 1 hold" that point to have been settled by all our people, these 
fifty years. You-will admit that the rope can not be well jumped 
without levity.” 

“Levity, Captain Truck! 1 hope you do not insinuate that a 
daughter of mine discovers levity?” 

“ Certainly, ma’am; she is called the best rope-jumper in the vil- 
lage, 1 hear; and levity, or lightness of carriage, is the great requisite 
tor skill in the art. Then there are ‘ vain repetitions ’ in doing the 
same thing over and over so often, and ‘ vain repetitions ’ are for- 
bidden even in our prayers. 1 can call both father and mother to 
testify to that fact.” 

“ Well, this IB news to me! 1 must speak to the minister about 
it," 

“ Of the two, the skipping-rope is lather more sinful than danC' 


HOME AS POUND. 


272 

ing, for the music makes the latter easy; whereas, one hag to force 
the spirit to enter into the other. Commodore, our hour has come, 
and vve must make sail. May 1 ask the favor, Mrs. Abbott, of a 
bit of thread to fasten this hook afresh?” . _ ^ 

The widow-bewitched turned to her basket, and raising a piece of 
calico to look for the thread, “high, low, jack, and the game” 
stared her in ihe face. When she bent her eyes toward her guests, 
she perceived all three gazing at the cards, with as much apparent 
surprise and curiositj'- as it two of them knew nothing of their 
history. 

“ Awful!” exclaimed Mrs. Abbott, shaking both hands— “ awful 
— awful — awful! The powers of darkness have been at work here!” 

“ They seem to have been pretty much occupied, too,” observed 
the captain, “for a better thumbed pack 1 never yet found in the 
forecastle of a ship.” 

“ Awful— awful— awful! This is equal to the forty days in the 
wilderness, Mr. Dodge.” 

“ It is a trying cross, ma’am.” 

“To my notion now,” said the captain, “those cards are not 
worse than the skipping-rope, though 1 allow that they might have 
been cleaner, ” 

But Mrs. Abbott was not disposed to view the matter so lightl}’’. 
She saw the hand of the devil in the affair, and fancied it was a new 
trial oftered to her widowed condition. 

“ Are these actually cards?” she cried, like one who aistrusted 
the evidence of her senses. 

“ Just so, ma’am.” kindly answered the commodore; “ this is the 
ace of spades, a famous fellow to hold when you have the lead; and 
this is the jack, which counts one, you know, when spades are 
trumps. 1 never saw a more thorough- working pack in my life.” 

“ Or a more thoroughly worked pack,” added the captain, in a 
conuoling manner. “ Well, we are not all perfect, and 1 hope Mrs. 
Abbott will cheer up ami look at this matter in a gayer point of view. 
For myself, 1 hold that a skipping-rope ’s worse than the jack of 
spades, Sundays or week days. Commodore, we shall see no 
pickerel to day, unless we tear ourselves from this good company.” 

Here the two wags took their leave, and retreated to the skiff; the 
captain, who foresaw an occasion to use them, considerately offering 
to relieve Mrs. Abbott from the presence of the odious cards, intimat- 
ing that he would conscientiously see them fairly sunk in the deep- 
est part of the lake. 

When the two worthies were at a reasonable distance from the 
shore, the commodore suddenly ceased rowing, made a flourish with 
his hand, and incontinently began to laugh, as if his mirth had sud- 
denly broken through all restraint. Captain Truck, who had been 
lighting a cigar, commenced smoking, and, seldom indulging in 
boisterous merriment, he responded with his eyes, shaking his head 
from time to time, with great satisfaction, as thoughts more ludic- 
rous than common came over his imagination. 

“ Harkee, commodore,” he said, blowing the smoke upward and 
watching it with his eye until it floated away in a little cloud, 
“neither of us is a chicken. You have studied life on the fresh 
water, and 1 have studied life on the salt. 1 do not say which pro* 


HOME AS FOUND. 273 

duces the best scholars, but 1 know that both make better Chris- 
tians than the jack-screw system.” 

“ Just so. i tell them in the village, that little is gained in the 
end by lullowing the blind; that is my doctrine, sir.” 

” And a very good doctrine it would prove, 1 make no doubt, 
were you to enter into it a little more fully — ” 

” AVell, sir, I can explain — ” 

” Not another syllable is necessary^ I know what you mean as 
well as it 1 said it myselt, and, moreover, short sermons are always 
the best. Aou mean that a pilot ought to know where he is steer- 
ing, which is perfectly sound doctrine. My own experience tells 
me that it you press a sturgeon’s hose with your foot it will spring 
up as soon as it is loosened. Now the jack-screw will heave a great 
strain, no doubt; but the moment it is let up, down comes all that 
rests on it again. This Mr. Dodge, 1 suppose you know, has been 
a passenger with me once or twice?” 

” 1 have heard as much— they say he was tigerish in the fight 
with the niggers— quite an out-and-outer.” 

‘‘ Ay, 1 hear he tells some such story himself; but harkee, com- 
modore, 1 wish to do justice to all men, and 1 find there is a very 
little ot it inland, hereaway. The hero of that day is about to marry 
your beautiful Miss Efiingham; other men did their duty too, as, 
for instance, was the case with Mr, John Effingham; but Paul 
Bluut-Powis-Effingham finished the job. As tor Mr. Steadfast 
Dodge, sir, 1 say nothing, unless it be to add that he was nowhere 
near me in that transaction; and if any man felt like an alligator in 
Lent, on that occasion, it was your humble servant.” 

‘‘ 'Which means that he was not nigh the enemy, I’ll swear before 
a magistrate.” 

‘‘ And no fear of perjury. Any one who saw Mr. John Effing- 
ham and Mr. Powis on that day, might have sworn that they were 
father and son; and any one who did not see Mr. Dodge might have 
said at once that he did not belong to their family. That is all, 
sir; 1 never disparage a passenger, and, therefore, shall say no more 
than merely to add that Mr. Dodge is no warrior.” 

‘‘ They say he has experienced religion lately, as they call it.” 

“ It is high time, sir, for he has experienced sin quite long enough, 
according to my notion. I hear that the man goes up and down the 
country disparaging those whose shoe-ties he .is unworthy to unloose, 
and that he has published some letters in his journal that are as false 
as his heart; but let him beware lest the world should see, some 
rainy day, an extract from a certain log-book belonging to a ship 
called the ‘ Montauk.’ 1 am rejoicing at this marriage after all, 
commodore, or marriages, rather, for 1 understand that Mr. Paul 
Effingham and Sir George Templemore intend to make a double 
bowline of it to-morrow morning. All is arranged, and as soon as 
my eyes have witnessed that blessed sight, 1 shall trip for New York 
again.” 

“It is clearly made out, then, that the young gentleman is Mr. 
John Effingham’s son?” 

“ As clear as the north-star in a bright night. The fellow who 
spoke to me at the Fun of Fire has put us in a way to remove the 
last doubt, if there were any doubt. Mr. Effingham himself, who 


274 


HOME AS EOUND. 


is so cool-headed and cautious, says there is now suDScient proof to 
make it good in any court in America. That point may be set 
down as settled, and, for my part, 1 rejoice it is so, since Mr. John 
Effingham has so long passed tor an old bachelor, that it is a credit 
to the corps to find one ot (hem the father of so noble a son.” 

here the commodore dropped his anchor, and the two friends 
began to fish. For an hour neither talked much, but having ob- 
tained the necessary stock of perch, they landed at the favorite 
rpriuig, and prepared a fry. While seated on the grass, alternating 
between the potations of punch and the mastication of fish, these 
worthies again renewed the dialogue in their usual discursive, philo- 
sophical, and sentimental manner. 

“We are citizens of a surprisingly great country, commodore,” 
commenced Mr. Truck, after one of his heaviest draughts; “ every- 
body says it, from Maine to Florida, and what everybody says must 
be true.” 

“Just so, sir. 1 sometimes wonder how so great a country ever 
came to produce so little a man as myself.” 

“ A good cow may have a bad calf, and that explains the matter. 
Have you many as virtuous and pious women in this part of the 
world as Mrs. Abbott?” 

“ The hills and valleys are filled with them. You mean persons 
who have got so much religion that they have no room for anything 
else?” 

“ 1 shall mourn to my dying day that you were not brought up 
to the sea! If you discover so much ot the right material on fresh- 
water, wffiat w^ould you have been on salt? The people who suck 
in nutriment from a brain and a conscience like those of Mr. Dodge, 
too, commodore, must get in time to be surprisingly clear-sighted.” 

“ Just so; his readers soon overreach themselves. But it’s of no 
great consequence, sir; the xreople of this part of the world keep 
nothfng long enough to do much good or much harm.” 

“ Fond of change, ha?” 

“Like unlucky fishermen, always ready to shift the ground. 1 
don’t believe, sir, that in all this region you can find a dozen graves 
of sons that lie near their fathers. Everybody seems to have a mor- 
tal aversion to stability.” 

“ It is hard to love such a country, commodore!” 

“ Sir, 1 never try to love it. God has given me a pretty sheet ot 
water, that suits my fancy and wants, a beautiful sky, fine green 
mountains, and 1 am satisfied. One may love God, in such a tem- 
ple, though he love nothing else,” 

“ Well, I suppose if you love nothing, nothing loves you, and no 
injustice is done.” 

“ Just so, sir- Self has got to be the idol, though in the general 
scramble a man is sometimes puzzled to know whether he is him- 
self or one of the neighbors.” 

“ I wish 1 knew your political sentiments, commodore; you have 
been communicative on all subjects but that, and 1 have taken up 
the notion that you are a true philosopher.” 

“ 1 hold myself to be but a babe in swaddling-clothes compared 
to yourself, sir; but such as my poor opinions are, you are welcome 
to them. In the first place, then, sir, i have lived long enough on 


HOME AS EOtTHD. 


275 

this water to know that every inRii is a lover of liberty in his own 
person, and that he has a secret distaste for it in the persons of other 
people. Then, sir, 1 have got to understand that patriotism means 
bread and cheese, and that opposition is every man for himself.” 

” If the truth weie known, 1 believe, commodore, you have 
buoyed out the channel!” 

“ Just so. After being pulled about by the salt of the land, and 
using my freeman’s privileges at their command until 1 got tired of 
so much liberty, sir, 1 have resigned, and retired to private life, 
doing most of my own thinking out here on the Otsego- Water, like 
a poor slave as 1 am. ” 

” You ought to be choseu the next president!” 

“ 1 owe my present emancipation, sir, to the sogdollager. I first 
began to reason about such a man as this Mr, Dodge, who has thrust 
himself and his ignorance together into the village, lately, as an ex- 
pounder of truth, and a ray of light to the blind. Well, sir, 1 said 
to myself, if this man be the man I know him to be as a man, cau 
he be anything better as an editor?” 

“ That was a home question put to yourself, commodore; how 
did you answer il?” 

“ The answer was satisfactory, sir, to myself, whatever it might 
be to other people. I stopped his paper, and set up for myself. 
Just about that time the sogdollager nibbled, and insteaa of trying 
to be a great man, over the shoulders of the patriots and sages of the 
land, 1 endeavored to immortalize myself by hooking him. 1 go to 
the eleciions now, tor that I feel to be a duty, but instead of allow- 
ing a man like this Mr. Dodge to tell me how to vote, 1 vote for the 
man in public that I would trust in private.” 

” Excellent! 1 honor jmu more and more every minute I pass in 
your society. We will now drink to the future happiness of those 
who will become brides and bridegrooms to-morrow. If all men 
were as philosophical and as learned as you, commodore, the human 
race would be in a fairer way than they are to-day.” 

Just so; I drink to them with all my heart. Is it not surpris- 
ing, sir, that people like Mrs. Abbott and Mr. Dodge should have it 
in their power to injure such as those whose happiness we have just 
had the honor of commemorating in advance?” 

” Why, commodore, a fly may bite an elephant, if he can find a 
weak spot in his hide. I do not altogether understand the history 
of the marriage of John Effingham, myself; but we see the issue of 
it has been a fine son. Now I hold that when a man fairly marries, 
he is bound to own it, the same as any other crime; for he owes it 
to those who have not been as guilty as himself, to show the world 
that he no longer belongs to them.” 

” Just so; but we have flies in this part of the world that will bite 
through the toughest hide.” 

” That comes from there being no quarter-deck in your social ship, 
commodore. Now, aboard of a well-regulated packet, all the 
thinking is done aft; they who are desirous of knowing whereabouts 
the vessel is, being compelled to wait till the observations are taken, 
or to sit down in their ignorance. The whole difficulty comes from 
the fact that sensible people live so far apart in this quarter of the 


276 


HOME AS FOUND. 


world that fools have more room than should fall to their share. 
You understand me, commodore?” 

‘‘ Just so,” said the commodore, laaghine; and winking. " Well, 
it is fortunate that there are some people who are quite as weak- 
minded as some other people. I take it, Captain Truc k, that you 
will be present at the wedding?” 

The captain now winked in his turn, looked around him to make 
sure no one was listening, and laying a finger on his nose, he an- 
swered in a much lower key than was usual for him — 

“ \ou can keep a secret, 1 know, commodore. Now what 1 have 
to say is not to be told to Mrs. Abbott, in order that it may be re- 
peated and multiplied, but is to be kept as snug as your bait in the 
bait- box.” 

‘‘ You know your man, sir.” 

” Well, then, about ten minutes before the clock strikes nine, to- 
morrow morning, do you slip into the gallery of New St. Paul’s, 
and you shall see beauty and modesty, when ‘ unadorned, adorned 
the most.’ You comprehend?” 

‘‘Just so,” and the hand was flourished even more than usual. 

“ It does not become us bachelors to be top lenient to matrimony, 
but 1 should be an unhappy man were 1 not to witness the marriage 
of Paul Powis to Eve Effingham.” 

Here both the worthies “freshened the nip,” as Captain Truck 
called it, and then the conversation soon got to be too philosophical 
and contemplative for this unpretending record of events and ideas. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

Then plainly know, my heart’s dear love is set 
On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: 

As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; 

And all combined, save what thou must confine 
By holy marriage. 

Romeo and Juliet. 

The morning chosen for the nuptials of Eve and Grace arrived, 
and all the inmates of the Wigwam were early afoot, though the 
utmost care had been taken to prevent the intelligence of the ap- 
proaching ceremony from getting into the village. They little knew, 
however, how closely they were watched; the mean artifices that 
w^ere resorted to by some who called themselves their neighbors, to 
tamper with servants, to obtain food for conjecture, and to justify 
to themselves their exaggerations, falsehoods, and frauds. The 
news did leak out, as will presently be seen, and through a channel 
that may cause the reader, who is unacquainted with some of the 
peculiarities of American life, a little surprise. 

We have frequently alluded to Annette, i\\Q femme decTiainbre that 
had followed Eve from Europe, although we have had no occasion 
to dwell on her character, which was that of a woman of her class, 
as they are well known to exist in France. Annette was young, 
had bright, sparkling black eyes, was well made, and had the usual 
tournure and manner of a Parisian grisette. As it is the besetting 
weakness of all provincial habits to mistake graces for grace, flour- 
ishes for elegance, and exaggeration for merit, Annette soon ac- 


H0MT5 AS POUITD. 


277 

qnirerl a reputation in her circle, as a woman of more than usual 
claims to distinction. H« r attire was in the height of the lasliion, 
being of Eve’s cast-off clothes, and of the best materials, and atliie 
is also a point that is not without its intiiience on those who are un- 
accustomed to the world. 

As the double ceremony w'as to take place before breakfast, An- 
nette was early employed about the person of her young mistress, 
adorning it in the bridal robes. While she worked at her usual em- 
ployment, the attendant appeared unusually agitated, and several 
times pins were badly pointed, and new arrangements had to super- 
sede or to supply the deficiencies of her mistakes. Eve was alw^aysa 
model of patience, and she bore with these little oversights with a 
quiet that would have given Paul an additional pledge of her ad- 
mirable self-command, as well as of a sweetness of temper that, in 
truth, raised her almost above the commoner feelings of mortality. 

“ Voiis etes unpeu aqitee ce matin, ma bonne Annette,'’ she mere- 
ly observed, when her maid had committed a blunder more miaterial 
than common. 

“ J'esp^re que mademoiselle a ete contente de moijusgu'd 'present," 
returned Annette, vexed with her own awkwardness' and speaking 
in the manner in which it is usual to announce an intention to quit a 
service. 

“ Certainly, Annette, you have conducted yourself well, and are 
very expert in your metur. But w^hy do you ask this question just 
at this moment?” 

“ Farce gwe— because — with mademoiselle’s permission, 1 intended 
to ask for my conge." 

‘‘ Conge! Do you think of quitting me, Annette?” 

” It would make me happier than anything else to die in the serv- 
ice of mademoiselle, but we are all subject to our destiny” — the con- 
versation was in French — ” and mine compels me to cease my serv- 
ices as a femme de cha'mhre." 

” This is a sudden, and for one in a strange country, an extraor- 
dinary resolution. May 1 ask, Annette, what you propose to do?” 

Here the woman gave herself certain airs, endeavored to blush, did 
look at the carpet with a studied modesty that might have deceived 
one who did not know the genua, and announced her intention to 
get married, too, at the end of the present month.” 

” Married!” repeated Eve — “ surely not to old Pierre, Annette?” 

” Pierre, luademoiselle! 1 shall not condescend to look at Pierre. 
Je vais me marier avec un avocat." 

” Un avocat!" 

‘‘ Oui, Mademoiselle. 1 will marry myself with Monsieur Arista- 
bule Bragg, it mademoiselle shall permit.” 

Eve was perfectly m-ute with astonishment, notwithstanding the 
proofs stie had often seen of the wide range that the ambition of an 
American of a certain class allows itself. Of course, she remem- 
bered the conversation on the Point, and it would not have been in 
nature, had not a mistress who had been so lately wooed, felt some 
surprise at finding her discarded suitor so soon seeing consolation 
in the smiles of her own maid. Still her surprise was less than that 
which the reader will probably experience at this announcement ; 
for, as has just been said, she had seen too much of the active and 


HOME AS rOUND. 


278 

pliant enterprise of the lover, to feel much wonder at any of his 
moral tours deforce. Even Eve, however, was not perfectly ac- 
quainted with the views and policy that had led Aristabiilus to seek 
this consummation to his matrimonial schemes, which must be ex- 
plained explicitly in order that tkey may be properly understood, 

Mr. Bragg had no notion of any distinctions m the world, beyond 
those which came from money and political success. For the first 
he had a practical deference that was as profound as his wishes for 
its enjoyments; and for the last he felt precisely the sort of reve- 
rence that one educated under a feudal system would feel for a 
feudal lord. The first, after several unsuccessful efforts, he had 
found unattainable by means of matrimony, and he turned his 
thoughts toward Annette, whom he had for some months held in re- 
serve, in the event of his failing with Eve and Glrace, for on-both 
these heiresses had he entertained designs, as a pis-aller. Annette 
was a dressmaker of approved taste, her person w^as sufficiently at- 
tractive, her broken English gave piquancy to thouglits of no great 
depth, she was of a suitable age, and he had made her proposals 
and been accepted, as soon as it was ascertained that Eve and Grace 
were irretrievably lost to him. Of course, the Parisienne did not 
hesitate an instant about becoming the wife of un avocat-, for, agree- 
ably to her habits, matrimony was a legitimate means of bettering 
her condition in life. The plan was soon arranged. They were to 
be married as soon as Annette’s month’s notice had expired, and 
then they were to emigrate to the far West, where Mr. Bragg pro- 
posed to practice law, or to keep school, or to go to Congress, or to 
turn trader, or to saw lumber, or, in short, to turn his hand to any- 
thing that offered; while Annette was to help along with the menage 
by making dresses, and teaching French; the latter occupation 
promising to be somewhat peripatetic, the population being scat- 
tered, and few of the dwellers in the interior deeming it necessary 
to take more than a' quarter’s instruction in any of the higher 
branches of education; the object being to study, as it is called, 
and not to know. Aristabulus, who was filled with goaheaaism, 
would have shortened the delay, but this Annette positively resisted; 
her esprit de corps as a servant, and all her notions of justice, repu- 
diating the notion that the connection which had existed so long be- 
tween Eve and herself was to be cut off at a moment’s warning. So 
diametrially were the ideas of Wiq fiances opposed to each other on 
this point, that at one time it threatened a rupture, Mr. Bragg as- 
serting the natural independence of man to a degree that would have 
rendered him independent of all obligations that were not eftectuallj’’ 
enacted by the law, and Annette maintaining the dignity of a Euro- 
pean de chamhre, whose sense of propriety demanded that she 
should not quit her place without giving a month’s warning. The 
affair was happily decided by Aristabulus’s receiving a commission 
to tend a store in the absence of its owner; Mr. Effingham, on a hint 
from his daughter, having profited by the annual expiration of the 
engagement to bring their connection to an end. 

This termination to the passion of Mr. Bragg would have afforded 
Eve a good deal of amusement at any other moment; but a bride 
cannot be expected to give too much of her attention to the felicity 
and prospects of those who have no natural or acquired claims to 


HOME AS FOUND. 


279 


her attection. The cousins met, attired for the ceremony, in Mr. 
Effingham’s room, where he soon came in person to lead them to 
the drawing-room. It is seldom that two more lovely young Women 
are brought together on similar occasions. As Mr. Effingham stood 
between them, holding a hand of each, his moistened eyes turned 
from one to the other in honest pride, and in an admiration that even 
his tenderness could not restrain. The toilets were as simple as 
the marriage ceremony will permit; tor it was intended that there 
should be no unnecessary parade; and perhaps the delicate beauty of 
each of the brides was rendered the more attractive by this sim- 
plicity, as it has often been justly remarked that the fair of this 
country are more winning in a dress of a less conventional character 
than when in the elaborate and regulated attire of ceremonies. As 
might have been expected, there was most of soul and feeling in 
Eve’s countenance, though Grace wore an air of charming modesty 
and nature. Both were unaffected, simple, and graceful, and wm 
may add that both trembled as Mr. Effingham took their hands. 

“ This is a pleasing and yet a painful hour,” said that kind and 
excellent man; ” one in which 1 gain a son, and lose a daughter.” 

” And I, deafest uncle,” exclaimed Grace, whose feelings trem- 
bled on her eyelids like the dew ready to drop from the leaf, ” have 
1 no connection with your feelings?” 

‘‘ You are the daughter that 1 lose, my child, for Eve will still 
remain with me. But Templemore has promised to be grateful, 
and 1 will trust his word.” 

Mr. Effingham then embraced with fervor both the charming 
young women, who stood apparelled tor the most important event of 
their lives, lovely in their youth, beauty, innocence, and modesty; 
and taking an arm of each he led them below. John Effingham, 
the two bridegrooms, Captain Ducie, Mr. and Mrs. Bloomfield, Mrs. 
Hawker, Captain Truck. Mademoiselle Viefville, Annette, and Ann 
Sidley, were all assembled in the drawing-room, ready to receive 
them; and as soon as shawls were thrown around Eve and Grace, 
in order to conceal the wedding dresses, the whole party proceeded 
to the church. 

The distance between the “ Wigwam ” and New St. Paul’s was 
very trifling, the solemn pines of the churchyard blending, from 
many points, with the gayer trees in the grounds of the former; and 
as the buildings in this part of the village were few, the whole of 
the bridal train entered the tower unobserved by the eyes of the 
curious. The clergyman was waiting in the chancel, and as each of 
tne young men ledThe object of his choice immediately to the altar, 
the double ceremony began without delay. At this instant Mr. 
Steadfast Dodge and Mrs. Abbott advanced from the rear of the 
gallery, and coolly took their seats in its front Neither belonged 
to this particular church, though, having discovered that the mar- 
riages were to take place that morning by means of Annette, they 
had no scruples on the score of delicacy about thrusting themselves 
forward on the occasion; for, to the latest moment, that publicity- 
principle which appeared to be interwoven with their very natures, 
induced them to think that nothing was so sacred as to be placed 
beyond the reach of curiosity. They entered the church, because 
the church they held to be a public place, pyeciael;^ ou the principle 


280 


HOME AS EOUKD. 


that others ot their class conceive if a gate be blown open by acci- 
dent it removes all the moral defenses against the trespassers as it 
removes the physical. 

The solemn language of the prayers and vows proceeded none the 
less for the presence of these unwelcome intruders; for at that 
moment all other thoughts were hushed in those that more properly 
belonged to the scene. When the clergyman made the usual appeal 
to know it any man could give a reason why those who stood before 
him should not be united in holy wedlock, Mrs. Abbott nudged 
Mr. Dodge, and, in the fulness of her discontent, eagerly inquired 
in a whisper if it were not possible to raise some valid objections. 
Could she have had her pious wish, the simple, unpretending, meek, 
and church going Eve should never be married. But the editor 
was not a man to act openly in anything, his particular province 
lying in insinuations and innuendoes. As a hint would not now be 
available, he determined to postpone his revenge to a future day. 
We say revenge, for Steadfast was one of the class that consider 
any happiness or advantage in which they are not ample participa- 
tors wrongs done to themselves. That is a "wise regulation of the 
church which makes the marriage ceremony brief, for the intensity 
of the feeling it often creates would frequently become too power- 
ful to be suppressed, were it unnecessarily prolonged. Mr. Effing- 
ham gave away both the brides, the one in the quality of parent, 
the other in that ot guardian, and neither of the bridegrooms got 
the ring on the wrong finger. This is all we have to say ot the im- 
mediate scene at the altar. As soon as the benediction w^as pro- 
nounced and the brides were released from the first embraces ot 
their husbands, Mr. Effingham, without even kissing Eve, threw 
the shawls over their shoulders, and taking an arm of each, he led 
them rapidly from the church, for he felt reluctant to suffer the 
holy feelings that were uppermost in his heart to be the spectacle 
of rude and obtrusive observers. At the door he relinquished Eve 
to Paul, and Grace to Sii George, with a silent pressure of the hand 
of each, and signed for them to proceed toward the Wigwam. He 
was obeyed*, and in less than half an hour from the time they had 
left the drawing-room the whole party was again assembled in it. 

W hat a change had been produced in the situation of so many in 
that brief interval ! 

‘ Father!” Eve whispered, while Mr. Effingham folded ber to 
his heart, the unbidden tears falling from both their eyes — ” 1 am 
still thine!” 

‘‘ It would break my heart to think otherwise, darling. No, no — 
1 have not lost a daughter, but have gained a son.” 

‘‘ And what place am 1 to occupy in this scene ot fondness?” in- 
quired John Effingham, who had considerately paid his compli- 
ments to Grace first, that she might not feel forgotten at such a 
moment, and who had so managed that she was now receiving the 
congratulations of the rest of the party; am I to lose both son and 
daughter?” 

Eve, smiling sweetly through her tears, raised herself from her 
own father’s arms, and was received in those of her husband’s 
parent. After he liad fondly kissed her forehead several times, 
without withdrawing from his bosom, she parted the rich hair on 


' . ho:me as 281 

his forehead, passing her hand down his face like an infant, and 
said softl}'- — 

'' Cousin Jack!” 

” 1 believe this must be my rank and estimation still! Paul shall 
make no difference in our feeling; we will love each other as we 
have ever done.” 

Paul can be nothing new between you and me. . You have al- 
ways been a second father in my eyes, and in my heart, too, dear — 
dear Cousin Jack.” 

John Etflugham pressed the beautiful, ardent, blushing girl to 
his bosom again; and as he did so both felt, notwithstanding their 
language, that a new and dearer tie than ever bound them together. 
Eve now received the compliments of the rest of the party, when 
the two brides retired to change the dresses in which theyliad ap- 
peared at the altar for their more ordinary attire. 

In her own dressing-room Eve found Ann Sidley waiting with 
impatience to pour out her feelings, the honest and affectionate 
creature being much too sensitive to open the floodgates of her emo- 
tion in the presence of third parties. 

‘‘Ma’am — Mi^s Eve — Mrs. Effingham!” she exclaimed, as soon 
as hei young mistress entered, afraid of saying too much, now that 
her nursling had become a married woman. 

” My kind and good Nanny!” said Eve, taking her old nurse in 
her arms, their tears mingling in silence for near a minute. “ You 
have seen your child enter on the last of her great earthly engage- 
ments, Nanny, and 1 know you pray that they may prove happy.” 

”1 do — 1 do — 1 do — ma’am — madam — Miss Eve — what am 1 to 
call you in future, ma’am?” 

” Call me Miss Eve, as you have done since my childhood, 
dearest Nann 3 ^” 

Nanny received this permission with delight, and twenty times 
that morning she availed herself of it; and she continued to use the 
term until, two years later, she danced a miniature Eve on her 
knee, as she had done its mother before her, when matronly rank 
began silently to assert its rights, and our present bride became Mrs. 
Effingham. 

” 1 shall not quit you, ma’am, now that you are married?” Ann 
Sidley timidly asked; for, although she could scarcely think such 
an event wdthin the bounds of probability, and Eve had already 
more than once assured her of the contrary with her owm tongue, 
still did she love to have assurance made doubly sure. ” 1 hope 
nothing wdll ever happen to make me quit you. ma’am?” 

“Nothing of that sort, with my consent, ever shall happen, my 
excelleiit Nanny, And now that Annette is about to get married 1 
shall have more than the usual necessity for your services.” 

“And Mamerzelle, ma’am?” inquired Nanny, with sparkling 
eyes; “ 1 suppose, she, too, will return to her own country, now 
5 ’’ou know everything, and have no further occasion for her?” 

“ Mademoiselle Viefville will return to France in the autumn, 
but it will be with us all; for my dear father. Cousin Jack, my 
husband ” — Eve blushed as she pronounced the novel word — “ and 
myself, not forgetting you, my old nurse, will all sail for England, 


282 HOME AS eoukO. 

with Sir George and Lady Templemore, on our way to Italy, the 
first week in October.” 

“ 1 care not, ma'am, so that I go with you. 1 would rather we 
did not live in a country where 1 cannot undeistand all that the 
people say to you, but wherever you are will be my earthly para- 
dise.” 

Eve kissed'the true-hearted a woman, and Annette entering, she 
changed her dress. 

The two brides met at the head of the great stairs, on their way 
back to the drawing-room. Eve was a little in advance, but with a 
half concealed smile she gave way to Grace, curtsying gravely, and 
saying — 

‘ ‘ It does not become me to precede Lady Templemore — T, who 
am only Mrs. Paul Eifingham,” 

“Nay, dear Eve, 1 am not so weak as you imagine. Do you 
not think 1 should have married him had he not been a baronet?” 

“Templemore, my dear coz, is a man any woman might love, 
and 1 believe, as firrnl}’’ as 1 hope it sincerely, that he will make you 
happy.” ' 

“ And yet there is one woman w^ho would not love him, Eve!” 

Eve looked steadily at her cousin for a moment, was startled, and 
then she telt gratified that Sir George had been so honest, for the 
frankness and manliness of his avowal was a pledge of the good 
faith and sincerity of his character. She took her cousin afiection- 
atel.y by the hand, and said— 

“Grace, this confidence is the highest compliment you can pay 
me, and it merits a return. That Sir George Templemore may have 
had a passing inclination for one who so little deserved it, is possi- 
bly true — but my afiections were another’s before 1 knew him,” 

“ You never would have married Templemore, Eve; he says him- 
self, now, that you are quite too continental, as he calls it, to like an 
Englishman.” 

“ Then 1 shall take the first good occasion to undeceive him for 
1 do like an Englishman, and he is the identical man.” 

As few women are jealous on their weddmg-day, Grace took this 
in good part, and they descended the stairs together, side by side, 
reflecting each other’s happiness in their timid but conscious smiles. 
In the great hall they were met by the bridegrooms, and each taking 
the arm of him who had now become of so vast importance to her. 
they paced the room to and fro, until summoned to the dejeuner d 
la fouTchette, which had been prepared under the especial superin- 
tendence of Mile. Viefville, after the manner of her country. 

Wedding-days, like all formally prepared festivals, are apt to go 
off a little heavily. Such, however, was not the case with this, for 
every appearance of premeditation and preparation vanished with this 
meal. It is true the family did not quit the grounds, but, with this 
exception, ease and tranquil hapinness reigned throughout. Cap- 
tain Truck was alone disposed to be sentimental, and more than once, 
as he looked about him, he expressed his doubts whether he had 
pursued the right course to attain happiness. 

“ 1 find myself in a solitary category,” he said at the dinner-table 
in the evening. “Mrs. Hawker and both the Messrs. Effingham 
have been married; everybody else is married, and 1 believe 1 must 


HOME AS FOUND. 


•283 


take refuge in saying that 1 will be married, if 1 can now persuade 
any one to have me. Even Mr. Powis, ray right-band man in all 
that African affair, has deserted me, and left me like a single dead 
pine in one of your clearings, or a jewel-block dangling at a yard- 
arm without a sheave. Mrs. Bride*”— the captain styled Eve thus 
throughout the day, to the utter neglect of the claims of Lady Tem- 
plemore — ‘‘ Mrs. Bride, we will consider my forlorn condition more 
philosophically when 1 shall have the honor to take you, and so 
many of this blessed party, back again to Europe, where 1 found 
you. Under your advice 1 think 1 might even yet venture — ” 

‘‘ And 1 am overlooked entirelyv” cried Mr. Howel, who had been 
invited to make one at the wedding-feast; “what is to become of 
me. Captain Truck, if this marrying mania go any further?” 

“ 1 have long had a plan tor your wt-lfare, my dear sir, that 1 will 
lake this opportunity to divulge; I propose, ladies and gentlemen, 
that we enlist Mr. Howel in our project for this autumn, and that 
we carry him with us to Europe. 1 shall be proud to have the honor 
of introducing him to his old fiiend, the island of Great Britain.” 

“ Ah! that is a happiness, 1 fear, that is not in reserve for me!” 
said Mr.' Howel, shaking his head. “I have, thought of these 
things in my time, but age will now defeat any such hopes.” 

“ Age, Tom Howel!” said John Effingham; “ you are but fifty, 
like ]Sed and myself. We were all boys together forty years ago, 
and yet you find us, who have so lately returned, ready to take a 
fresh departure. Pluck up hearU there may be a steam-boat ready 
to bring you back by the time you wish to return.” 

“ Never,” said Captain Truck, positively. “ Ladies and gentle- 
men, il is morally impossible that the Atlantic should ever be uavi= 
cated by steamers. That doctrine 1 shall maintain 1o my dying day; 
but what need of a steamer when we have packets like palaces?” 

“ 1 did not know, captain, that you entertained so hearty a respect 
for Great Britain— it is encouraging, really, to find so generous a 
feeling toward the old island in one of her descendants. Sir George 
and Lady Templemore, permit me to drink to your lasting felicity.” 

“ Ay — ay — 1 entertain no ill-will to England, though her tobacco 
laws are none of the gepteelest. But my wish to export you, Mr. 
Howel, is less from a desire to show you England than to let you 
perceive that there are other countries in Europe — ” 

“ Other countries! Surely you do not suppose 1 am so ignorant 
of geography as to believe that there are no other countries in Europe 
— no, such places as Hanover, Brunswick, and Brunswick Lunen- 
berg, and Denmark; the sister of old George the Third married 
the'king of that country; and Wurtemberg, the king of which mar- 
ried the Princess Royal — ” 

“And Mecklenburg-Strelitz,” added John Effingham, gravely, 
“ a princess of which actually married George the Third in propria 
persona as well as by proxy. Nothing can be plainer than your 
geography, Howel; but, in addition to these particular regions, our 
worthy friend the captain wishes you to know, also, that there are 
such places as France, and Austria, and Russia, and Italy; though 
the latter can scarcely repay a man for the trouble of visiting it.” 

“You have guessed iny motive, Mr. John Effingham, and ex- 
pressed it much more discreetly than 1 could possibly have done,” 


284 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


cried the captain. “If Mr. Howel will do me the honor to take 
passage with me, going and coming, 1 shall consider the pleasure 
of his remarks on men and things as one of the greatest advantages 
1 ever possessed.” 

“ 1 do not know but 1 might be induced to venture as far as Eng 
land, but not a foot further.” 

Pas d Paris!'' exclaimed Mile. Viefville, who wondered why 
any rationab being would take the trouble to cross the Atlantic merely 
to see ce mUamohque Londres ; “ you will go to Paris for my sake, 
Monsieur Rowel?” 

“ For j’-our sake, indeed, Mam’selle, 1 would do anything, but 
hardly lor my own. 1 confess 1 have thought of this, and 1 will 
think of it further. 1 should like to see the King of England and 
the House of Lords, 1 confess, before 1 die.” 

“ Ay, and the Tower, and the Boar’s Head at East Cheap, and 
the statue of the Duke of Wellington, and London Biidge, and 
Richmond Hill, and Bow Street, and Somerset House, and Oxford 
Road, and Bartlemy Fair, and Hungerford Market, and Charing 
Cross— Charing Cross, Tom Howell” added John Effingham, 
with a good-natured nod of the head. 

“ A wonderful nation!” cried Mr, Ilowel, whose eyes spai’kled as 
the other proceeded in his enumeration of wonders. “ 1 do not think, 
after all, that 1 can die in peace without seeing some of these things 
— all would be too much lor me. How tar is the Isle of Dogs, now, 
from St. Catharine’s Docks, captain?” 

“ Oh! but a few cables’-lengths. If you will only stick to the 
ship until she is fairly docked, 1 will promise you a sight of the Isle 
of Dogs before you land, even. But then you must promise me 
to carry out no tobacco!” 

“ No fear of me; 1 neither smoke nor chew, and it does not sur- 
prise me that a nation as polished as the English should have this 
antipathy to lobacco. And one might really see the Isle of Dogs 
before landing? It is a wonderful country! Mrs. Bloomfield, will 
you ever be able to die tranquilly without seeing England?” 

“ 1 hope, sir, whenever that event shall arrive, that it may be met 
tranquilly, let what may happen previously. 1 do confess,* in com 
mon with Mrs. Effingham, a longing desire to see Italy; a wish that 
1 believe she entertains from her actual knowledge, and which 1 en> 
tertain from my anticipations.” 

“Now this really surprises me. ‘What can Italy possess to repay 
one for the trouble of traveling so far?” 

“1 trust, Cousin Jack,” said Eve, coloring at the sound of her 
own voice, for on that day of supreme happiness and intense emo- 
tions she had got to be so sensitive as to be less self-possessed than 
common, “ that our friena Mr. Wenhara will not be forgotten, but 
that he may be invited to join the party.” 

This representative of la jeune Ameriqiie was also present at the 
dinner, out of regard to his deceased father, who was a very old 
friend of Mr. Effingham’s, and being so favorably noticed by the 
bride, he did not fail to reply. 

“ 1 believe an American has little to learn from any nation but his 
own,” observed Mr. Wenham, with the complacency of the school 
to which he belonged, “although one might wish that all of this 


HOME AS FOUHI). 285 

country should travel, in order that the rest of the world might have 
tlie benefit of the intercourse.” 

“It is a thousand pities,” said John Effingham, “that one of our 
iiniversitjes, for instance, was not ambulant. Old Yale was so in 
its infancy; but unlike most other creatures, it went about with 
greater ease to itselt when a child than it can move in manhood.” 

“ Mr. John Effingham loves to be facetious,” said Mr. Wenham, 
with dignity; for, while he w^as as credulous as could be wished on, 
the subject of American superiority, he was not quite as blind as the* 
votaries of the Anglo-American school, who usually yield the con- 
trol of all their faculties and common sense to their masters on the 
points connected with their besetting w'eaknesses. “ Everybody is 
agreed, 1 believe, that the American imparts more than he receives 
in his intercourse with Europeans.” 

The smiles of ihe mc're experienced of this young man’s listeners 
were well-bred and concealed, and the conversation turned to other 
subjects. It was easy to raise the laugh on such an occasion, and 
contrary to the usages of the Wigwam, where the men usually left 
the table witn the other sex. Captain Truck, John Effingham, Mr. 
Bloomfield, and Mr. Howel made what is called a ni^ht of it. Much 
delicious claret was consumed, and the honest captain was permitted 
to enjoy his cigar. About midnight he swore he had half a mind to 
write a letter to Mrs. Hawker, with an offer of his hand; as for his 
heart, that she well knew she had possessed for a long time. 

The next day, about the hour when the house was tranquil, from 
the circumstance that most of its inmates were abroad on their 
several avocations of boating, riding, shopping, or walking, Eve 
was in the library, her father having left it a few minutes before to 
mount his horse. She was seated at a table, writing a letter to an 
aged relative of her own sex, to communicate the circumstance of 
her rnaiTiage. The door was half open, and Paul appeared at it un- 
expectedly, coming in search of his young bride. His step had been 
so light, and so intently was our heroine engaged with her letter, 
that his approach was unnoticed, though it had now been a long 
time that the ear of Eve. had learned to know his tread, and her 
heart to beat at its welcome sound. Perhaps a beautiful woman i^ 
never so winningly lovely as when, in her neat morning attire, she 
seems fresh and sweet as the nev -born day. Eve had paid a little 
more attention to her toilet than usual, even, admitting just enough 
of a properly selected jewelry, a style of ornament that so singularly 
denotes tlie refinement of a gentlewoman, when used understanding- 
ly, and which so infallibly betrays vulgarity under other circum- 
stances, while her attire had rather more than its customary finish, 
though it was impossible not to perceive at a glance that she was in 
an undress. The Parisian skill of Annette, on which Mr. Bra*g 
based so many of his hopes of future fortune, had cut and fitted the 
robe to her faultlessly beautiful person, with a tact, or it might be 
truer to say a contact, so perfect, that it even left more charms to be 
imagined than displayed, though the outline of the whole figure was 
that of the most lovely womanhood. But, notwithstanding the ex- 
quisite modeling of the whole form, the almost fairy lightness of the 
full, swelling, but small foot, about which nothing seemed lean and 
attenuated, the exquisite hand that appeared from among the rutiles 


286 


HOME AS FOUND. 


of the dress, Paul stood in breathless admiration of the countenance 
of his “ bright and blooming bride.” Perhaps there is no sentiment 
so touchingly endearing to a man as that which comes over him as 
he contemplates the beauty, confiding faith, holy parity, and truth 
tliat shine in the countenance of a young, unpracticed, innocent 
woman, when she has so far overcome her natural timidity as to 
pour out her tenderness in his behalf, and to submit to the strongest 
impulses of her nature. Such was now the fact with Eve. She 
*was writing of her husband, and, though her expressions were un- 
restrained by taste and education, they partook of her unutterable 
fondness and devotion. The tears stood in her eyes, the pen trem- 
bled in her hand, and she had shaded her face as if to conceal the 
weakness from herself. Paul was alarmed, he knew not why, b^it 
Eve in tears was a sight painful to him. In a moment he was at 
her side, with an arm placed gently around her waist, and he drew 
her fondly toward his bosom. 

“ Eve— dearest Eve!” he said— what mean these tears?” 

The serene eye, the radiant blush, and the meek tenderness that 
rewarded his own burst of feeling, reassured the young husband, 
and, deferiing to the sensitive modesty of so young a bride, he re- 
leased his hold, retaining only a hand. 

” It is happiness, Powis— nothing but excess of happiness, which 
makes us women weaker, 1 feai, than even sorrow.” 

Paul kissed her hands, regarded her with an intensity of admira- 
tion, before which the eyes of Eve rose and fell, as if dazzled while 
meeting his looks, and yet unwilling to lose them; and then he re- 
verted to the motive which had brought him to the library. 

” My father— father, that is now — ” 

” Cousin Jack!” 

” Cousin Jack, if you will, has just made me a present, which is 
second only to the greater gift 1 received from your own excellent 
parent yesterday at the attar. See, dearest Eve, he has bestowed this 
lovely image of yourself on me; lovely, tbough still so far from the 
truth. And here is the miniature of my poor mother, also, to supply 
the place of the one carried away by the Arabs.” 

Eve gazed long and wistfully at the beautiful features of this 
image of her husband’s mother. She traced in them that pensive 
thought, lhat winning kindness, that had first softened her hWt lo- 
WTii-d Paul, and her lips trembled as she pressed the insensible glass 
against them. 

” She must have been very handsome. Eve, and there is a look of 
melancholy tenderness in the face, that would seem almost to 
predict an unhappy blighting of the affections.” 

” And yet this young, ingenuous, faithful W'oman entered on the 
soTemn engagement weliave just made, Paul, with as many reason- 
able hopes of a bright future as we ourselves!” 

‘‘Not so, Eve — confidence and holy truth were wanting at the 
nuptials of my parents. When Ihere is deception at the commence- 
ment of such a contract, it is not difficult to predict the end.” 

‘‘1 do not think, Paul, you ever deceived; that noble heart of 
yours is too generous!” 

” If anything can make a man w^orthy of such a love, dearest, it 
is the perfect and absorbing confidence with w'hich your sex throw 


287 


HOME AS FOUND. 

themselves on the justice and faith of ours. Did that spotless heart 
ever entertain a doubt of the worth of any living being on which it 
had set its affections?” 

” Of itself, often, and they say self-love lies at the bottom of all 
our actions.” 

” You are the last person to hold this doctrine, beloved, for those 
who live most in your confidence declare that all traces of self are 
lost in your very nature.” 

” Most in my confidence! My. father— my dear, kind father has 
then been betraying his oesetling weakness, by extolling the gift he 
has made.” 

“Y^our kind, excellent father, knows too well the total want of 
necessit.y for any such thing. If ihe truth must be confessed, 1 have 
been passing a quarter of an hour with worthy Ann Sidley.” 

‘‘Nanny — dear old Nanny! — and you have been weak enough, 
traitor, to listen to the eulogiums of a nurse on her child!” 

” All praise of thee, my blessed Eve, is grateful to my ears, and 
who can speak more understandingly of those domestic qualities 
which lie at the root of domestic bliss, than those who have seen you 
in your most intimate life, from childhood dow'n to the moment 
wdien you have assumed the duties of a wife?” 

‘‘Paul, Paul, thou art beside thyself; too much learning hath 
made thee mad!” 

“lam not mad, most beloved and beautiful Eve, but blessed to 
a degree that might indeed upset a stronger reason.” 

‘‘ VVe will now talk of other things,” said Eve, raising his hand 
to her lips in respectful affection, and looking gratefully up into his 
fond and eloquent eyes; ‘‘ 1 hope the feeling of which you so lately 
spoke has subsided, and that jmu no longer feel yourself a stranger 
in the dwelling of your own family.” 

‘‘ Now that 1 can claim a right through you, I confess that my 
conscience is getting to be easier on tliis point. Have you been yet 
told of the arrangement that the older heads meditate in leferencQ to 
our future means?” 

‘‘ 1 would not listen to my dear father when he wished to intro- 
duce the subject, for 1 found that it was a project that made distinc- 
tions between Paul Effingham and Eve Effingham— two that 1 wish, 
henceforth, to consider as one in all things.” 

‘‘ Jn this, darling, you may do yourself injustice as well as me. 
But perhaps you may not wish me to speak oh the subject, neither.” 

” "What would my lord?” 

‘‘ Then listen, and the tale is soon told. We are each other's natu- 
ral heirs. Of the name and blood of Effingham, neither has a rela- 
tive nearer than the other, for though but cousins in the third degree, 
our famil}’’ is so small as to render the husband, in this case, the 
natural heir of the wife, and the wife the natural heir of the hus- 
band. Now your father proposes that his estates be valued, and that 
my father settle on you a sum of equal amount, which his wealth 
will fully enable him to do; and that 1 become the possessor, in re- 
version, of the lands that would otherwise have been yours.” 

‘‘ You possess me, my heart, my affections, my duty; of what ac- 
count is money after this!” 


288 


HOME AS FOUHD. 


“ 1 perceive that you are so much and so truly woman, Eve, that 
we must arrange all this without consulting you at all.” 

“ Can 1 be in safer hands? A father that has always been too in- 
dulgent of my unreasonable wishes— a second parent that has only 
contributed too much to spoil me in the same thoughtless manner— 
and a — ” 

“Husband,” added Paul, perceiving that Eve hesitated at pro- 
nouncing to his face a name so novel though so endearing, “ who 
will stiive to do more than either in the same way.” 

“ Husband,” she added, looking up into his face with a smile in- 
nocent as that of an infant, while the crimson tinge covered her fore- 
head, “ if the formidable word must be uttered, who is doing all he 
can to increase a self-esteem that is already so much greater than it 
ought to be.” 

A slight tap at the door caused Eve to start and look embarrassed, 
like one delected in a fault, and Paul to I’elease the hand that he had 
continued to hold during the brief dialogue. 

“ Sir— ma’am ” — said the timid, meek voice oi^^ Ann Sidley, as she 
held the door aiar, without presuming to Icok into thc.’f’oom: “ JVliss 
Eve-Jlr. Powis." 

“ Enter, my good Nanny,” said Eve, recovering her self-compos- 
ure in a moment, the presence of her nurse always appearing to her 
as no more than a duplication of herself. “ What is your wish?” 

“ I hope 1 am not unreasonable, but 1 knew that Mr. Effingham 
was alone with you here, and 1 wished — that is, ma’am — Miss Eve 
—sir — ” 

“ Speak your wishes, my good old nurse — am 1 not 5 'our own 
child, and is not this your own child’s ” — again Eve hesitated, 
blushed, and smiled, ere she pronounced the formidable word — 
“husband.” 

“ Yes, ma’am; and God be praised that it is so. I dreamed, it is 
now four years. Miss Eve; we were then traveling among the Den- 
markers, and 1 dreamed that you were married to a great prince — ” 

“ But your dream has not come true, my good Nannj^ and you 
see by this fact that it is not always safe to trust in dreams.” 

“ Ma’am, 1 do not esteem princes by the kingdoms and crowns, 
hut by their qualities -and if Mr. Powis be not a prince, who is?” 

“ That, indeed, changes the matter,” said the gratified young wife; 
“ and I believe, after all, dear Nanny, that 1 must become a convert 
to your theory of dreams. ” 

“ While 1 must always deny it, good Mrs. Sidley, if this is a 
specimen of its truth,” said Paul, laughing. “ But, perhaps this 
prince proved unworthy of Miss Eve, after all!” 

“ Not he, sir; he made her a most kind and affectionate husband; 
not humoring all her idle wishes, if Miss Eve could have had such 
wishes, but cherishing her, and counseling her, and protecting her, 
showing as much tenderness as her own father, and as much love 
for her as 1 had myself.” 

“ In which case^ my worthy nurse, he proved an invaluable hus- 
band,” said Eve, with glistening eyes, “ and 1 trust, too, that he was 
considerate and friendly to you?” 

“ He took me by the hand the morning after the marriage, and 
said, ‘ Faithful Ann Sidley, you have nursed and attended my be- 


HOME AS EOUNO. 


289 


loved when a child, and as a young lady; and now 1 entreat you 
will continue to wait on and serve her as a wife to her dying day.’ 
Ke did, indeed, ma’am; and 1 thinli 1 can now hear the very words 
he spoke so kindly. The dream, so far, has come good.” 

” My faithful Ann,” said Paul, smiling, and taking the hand of 
the nurse, ‘‘ you have been all that is good and true to my best be- 
loved, as a child, and as a young lady; and now 1 earnestly entreat 
you to continue to wait on her, and to serve her as my v.ife, tojmur 
dying day.” 

Nanny clapped her hands with a scream of delight, and bursting 
into tears, she exclaimed, as she hurried from the room, 

“ It has all come true — it has all come true!” 

A pause of several minutes succeeded this burst of superstitious 
but natural feeling. 

” All who live near you appear to think you the common center 
of their affections,” Paul resumed, when his swelling heart per- 
mitted him to speak. 

” We have hitherto been a family of love— God grant it may al- 
ways continue so, , „ 

Another deucious silence, which lasted still longer than the other, 
followed. Eve then looked up into her husband’s face with a gentle 
curiosity, and observed: 

” you have told me a great deal, Powis — explained all but one 
little thinu:, that at the time caused me great pain. Why did Ducie, 
when you were about to quit the. ‘ Montauk ' together, so uncere- 
moniously stop you, as you were about to get into the boat first: is 
the etiquette of a man-of-war so rigid as to justify so much rude- 
ness, I had almost called it—” 

” The etiquette of a vessel of war is rigid certainly, and wisely so. 
But what you fancied rudeness, was in truth a compliment. Among 
us sailors, it is the inferior who goes first into a boat, and who quits 
it last.” 

“ So much, then, for forming a judgment ignorantly! 1 believe 
it is always safer to have no opinion, than to form one without a 
perfect knowledge of all the accompanying circumstances.” 

'* Let us adhere to this safe rule through life, dearest, and we may 
find its benefits. An absolute confidence, caution in drawing con- 
clusions, and a just reliance on each other, may keep us as happy 
to the end of our married life as we are at this blessed moment, when 
it is commencing under auspices so favorable as to seem almost provi- 
deatiaL** 


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1830 Lottie and Victorine; or. Working their Own Way 20 

1834 Jewel, the Heiress. A Girl’s Love Story 20 

1861 Love at Long Branch; or, Inez Merivale’s Fortunes 20 

WILKIE COLLINS’ WORKS. 

10 The Woman in White 20 

14 The Dead Secret 20 

22 Man and Wife 20 

32 The Queen of Hearts 20 

38 Antonina 20 

42 Hide-and-Seek 20 

76 The New Magdalen 10 

94 The Law and The Lady 20 

180 Armadale 20 

191 My Lady’s Money 10 

225 The Two Destinies 10 

250 No Name 20 

286 After Dark lO 

409 The Haunted Hotel 10 

433 A Shocking Story 10 

487 A Rogue’s Life 10 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.— Ordinary Edition. 


651 The Yellow Mask 10 

583 Fallen Leaves 20 

654 Poor Miss Finch 20 

675 The Moonstone 20 

696 Jezebel’s Daughter 20 

713 The Captain’s Last Love 10 

721 Basil 20 

745 The Magic Spectacles 10 

905 Duel in Herne Wood 10 

928 Who Killed Zebedee? 10 

971 The Frozen Deep 10 

990 Tlie Black Robe 20 

1164 Your Money or Your Life 10 

1544 Heart and Science. A Story of the Present Time 20 

1770 Love’s Random Shot 10 

1856 “I Say No” 20 

J. FENIMORE COOPER’S WORKS. 

222 Last of the Mohicans 20 

224 The Deerslayer .* 20 

226 The Pathfinder 20 

229 The Pioneers 20 

231 The Prairie 20 

233 The Pilot 20 

585 The Water-Witch 20 

590 The Two Admirals 20 

615 The Red Rover 20 

761 Wing-and'Wing 20 

940 The Spy 20 

1066 The Wyandotte 20 

1257 Afloat and Ashore 20 

1262 Miles Wallingford (Sequel to “Afloat and Ashore”) 20 

1569 The Headsman ; or, The Ahbaye des Vignerons 20 

1605 The Monikins 20 

1661 The Heidenmauer; or, The Benedictines. A Legend of 

the Rhine 20 

1691 The Crater; or, Vulcan’s Peak. A Tale of the Pacific 20 

CHARLES DICKENS’ WORKS. 

20 The Old Curiosity Shop 20 

100 A Tale of Two Cities 20 

102 Hard Times 10 


THE SEASIDE LIBRART.— Ordinary Edition. 


118 Great Expectations 20 

187 David Copperfield 20 

200 Nicholas Nickleby 20 

213 Barnaby Budge 20 

218 Dombey and Son 20 

239 No Thoroughfare (Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins) .... 10 

247 Martin Chuzzlewit 20 

272 The Cricket on the Hearth 10 

284 Oliver Twist 20 

289 A Christmas Carol 10 

297 The Haunted Man 10 

304 Little Dorrit 20 

308 The Chimes 10 

317 The Battle of Life 10 

325 Our Mutual Friend 20 

337 Bleak House 20 

352 Pickwick Papers 20 

359 Somebody’s Luggage 10 

367 Mrs. Lirrip^r’s Lodgings 10 

372 Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices 10 

375 Mugby Junction 10 

403 Tom Tiddler’s Ground 10 

498 The Uncommercial Traveler 20 

521 Master Humphrey’s Clock 10 

625 Sketches by Boz 20 

639 Sketches of Young Couples 10 

827 The Mudfog Papers, &c *10 

860 The Mystery of Edwin Drood 20 

900 Pictures Fiom Italy 10 

1411 A Child’s History of England 20 

1464 The Picnic Papers • 20 

1558 Three Detective Anecdotes, and Other Sketches 10 

WORKS BY THE AUTHOR OF “ DORA THORNE.” 

449 More Bitter than Death 10 

618 Madolin’s Lover 20 

656 A Golden Dawn '. 10 

678 A Dead Heart 10 

718 Lord Lynne’s Choice; or, True Love Never Runs Smooth. 10 

746 Which Loved Him Best 20 

846 Dora Thorne 20 

921 At War with Herself 10 

. _ 0 


TSE SEASIDE LTBRATtY.— Ordinary Edition, 


931 The Sin of a Lifetime 20 

1013 Lady Gwendoline’s Dream 10 

1018 Wife in Name Only 20 

1044 Like No Other Love 10 

1060 A Woman’s War 10 

1072 Hilary’s Folly 10 

1074 A Queen Amongst Women 10 

1077 A Gilded Sin 10 

1081 A Bridge of Love 10 

1085 The Fatal Lilies • 10 

1099 Wedded and Parted 10 

1107 A Bride From the Sea. 10 

1110 A Rose in Thorns 10 

1115 The Shadow of a Sin 10 

1122 Redeemed by Love 10 

1126 The Story of a Wedding-Ring 10 

1127 Love’s Warfare 20 

1132 Repented at Leisure 20 

1179 From Gloom to Sunlight 20 

1209 Hilda ! 20 

1218 A Golden Heart 20 

1260 Ingledew House 10 

1288 A Broken Wedding-Ring 20 

1305 Love For a Day; or, Under the Lilacs 10 

1357 The Wife’s Secret 10 

1393 Two Kisses 10 

1460 Between Two Sins 10 

1640 The Cost of Her Love 20 

1664 Romance of a Black Veil 20 

1704 Her Mother’s Sin 20 

1761 Thorns and Orange-Blossoms 20 

1844 Fair but False, and The Heiress of Arne 10 

1883 Sunshine and Roses 20 

1906 In Cupid’s Net 10 

ALEXANDER DUMAS’ WORKS. 

144 The Twin Lieutenants 10 

151 The Russian Gipsy 10 

155 The Count of MoniQ-CrXQio {Complete in Om Volume) 20 

160 The Black Tulip 10 

167 The Queen's Necklace 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY. -Ordinary Edition. * 


172 The Chevalier de Maison Rouge 20 

184 The Countess de Charny 20 

188 Nanon 10 

193 Joseph Balsamo; or, Memoirs of a Physician 20 

194 The Conspirators 10 

198 Isabel of Bavaria 10 

201 Catherine Blum 10 

223 Beau Tancrede; or, The Marriage Verdict (small type),... 10 

997 Beau Tancrede; or. The Marriage Verdict (large type) 20 

228 The Regent’s Daughter 10 

244 The Three Guardsmen 20 

268 Tile Forty -five Guardsmen , ' 20 

276 The Page of the Duke of Savoy 10 

278 Six Years Later; or. Taking the Bastile 20 

283 Twenty Years After 20 

298 Captain Paul 10 

306 Three Strong Men 10 

318 Ingenue 10 

331 Adventures of a Marquis. First half 20 

331 Adventures of a Marquis. Second half 20 

342 The Mohicans of Paris. Vol. I. (small type) 10 

1565 The Mohicans of Paris. Vol. I. (large type) 20 

1565 The Mohicans of Paris. Vol. II. (large type) 20 

1565 The Mohicans of Paris. Vol. III. (large type) 20 

1565 The Mohicans of Paris. Vol. IV. (large type) 20 

344 Ascanio 10 

608 The Watchmaker 20 

616 The Two Dianas 20 

622 Andree de Taverney 20 

664 Vicomte de Bragelonne (1st Series) 20 

664 Vicomte de Bragelonne (2d Series) 20 

664 Vicomte de Bragelonne (3d Series) 20 

664 Vicomte de Bragelonne (4th Series) 20 

688 Chicot, the Jester 20 

849 Doctor Basilius . . ; 20 

1452 Salvator; Being the continuation and conclusion of “The 

Mohicans of Paris.” Vol. 1 20 

1452 Salvator: Being the continuation and conclusion of “The 

Mohicans of Paris.” Vol, II 20 

1452 Salvator: Being the continuation and conclusion of “ The 

Mohicans of Paris.” Vol. Ill 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY. — Ordinary Edition, 


1453 Salvator; Being the continuation and conclusion of “ The 

Mohicans of Paris.” Vol. IV 30 

1453 Salvator: Being the continuation and conclusion of “The 

Mohicans of Paris.” Vol. Y 30 

1561 The Corsican Brothers 10 

1593 Marguerite de Valois. An Historical Romance 30 

F. DU BOISGOBEY'S WORKS. 

709 Old Age of Monsieur Lecoq. Part 1 30 

709 Old Age of Monsieur Lecoq, Part II SO 

1063 The Severed Hand (La Main Coupee) 30 

1133 The Crime of the Opera House. First half 30 

1133 The Crime of the. Opera House. Second half 30 

1143 The Golden Tress 30 

1335 The Mystery of an Omnibus 30 

1341 The Matapan Affair. First half SO 

1341 The Matapan Affair. Second half 30 

1307 The Robbery of the Orphans; or, Jean Tourniol’s Inherit- 
ance . 30 

1356 The Golden Pig (Le Cochon d’Or). Part 1 30 

1356 The Golden Pig. Part II 30 

1433 His Great Revenge. First half 30 

1433 His Great Revenge. Second half 30 

1465 The Privateersman’s Legacy. First half 30 

1465 The Privateersman’s Legacy. Second half SO 

1481 The Ferry-boat (Le Bac) 30 

1534 Satan’s Coach (L’Equipage du Diable). First half 30 

1534 Satan’s Coach (L’Equipage du Diable). Second half 30 

1550 The Ace of Hearts (L’As de Coeur). First half 30 

1550 The Aoe of Hearts (L’As de Coeur). Second half 30 

1603 Marie-Rose ; or, The Mystery. First half 30 

1603 Marie- Rose; or, The Mystery. Second half 30 

1717 Sealed Lips SO 

1743 The Coral Pin 30 

1793 Chevalier Casse-Cou. First half 30 

1793 Chevalier Casse-Cou. Second half 30 

1799 The Steel Necklace 30 

1800 Bertha’s Secret. First half 30 

1800 Bertha’s Secret. Second half 30 

1841 Merindol 20 

1843 The Iron Mask. First half 30 

9 


TEE SEASIDE LIBB ART. —Ordinary Edition, 


1842 The Iron Mask. Second half 20 

1874 Piedoiiche, a French Detective 20 

1885 The Sculptor’s Daughter. First half 20 

1885 The Sculptor’s Daughter. Second half 20 

1886 Zenobie Capitaine. First half 20 

1886 Zenobie Capitaine. Second half 20 

1925 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. First half 20 

EMILE GABORIAU’S WORKS. 

408 File No. 113 20 

465 Monsieur Lecoq. First half 20 

465 Monsieur Lecoq. Second half 20 

476 The Slaves of Paris. First half 20 

476 The Slaves of Paris. Second half 20 

490 Marriage at a Venture 10 

494 The Mystery of Orcival '20 

501 Other People’s Money 20 

509 Within an Inch of His Life 20 

515 The Widow Lerouge 20 

523 The Clique of Gold 20 

671 The Count’s Secret. Part 1 20 

671 The Count’s Secret. Part II 20 

704 Captain Contanceau; or, The Volunteers of 1792 10 

741 The Downward Path; or, A House Built on Sand (La De- 

gringolade). Part 1 20 

741 The Downward Path; or, A House Built on Sand (La De- 

gringolade). Part II 20 

758 The Little Old Man of the Batignolles 10 

778 The Men of the Bureau 10 

789 Promises of Marriage 10 

813 The 13th Hussars 10 

834 A Thousand Francs Reward 10 

899 Max’s Marriage; or, The Vicomte’s Choice 10 

1184 The Marquise de Brinvilliers 20 

MARY CECIL HAY’S WORKS. 

8 The Arundel Motto 10 

407 The Arundel Motto (in large type) 20 

9 Old Myddelton’s Money 10 

427 Old Myddelton’s Money (in large type) 20 

17 Hidden Perils 10 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY,— if BaitWfb, 


434 Hidden Perils (in large type) 20 

23 The bquire’s Legacy 10 

ol6 The Squire’s Legacy (in large type) 20 

27 Victor and Vanquished 20 

29 Nora’s Love Test 10 

421 Nora’s Love Test (in large type).. 20 

275 A Shadow on the Threshold 10 

363 Reaping the Whirlwind 10 

384 Back to the Old Home 10 

415 A Dark Inheritance ... 10 

440 The Sorrow of a Secret, and Lady Carmichael’s Will . , . . ... 10 

686 Brenda Yorke 10 

724 For Her Dear Sake 20 

852 Missing 10 

855 Dolf ’s Big Brother 10 

930 In the Holidays, and The Name Cut on a Gate 10 

935 Under Life’s Key, and Other Stories 20 

972 Into the Shade, and Other Stories 20 

1011 My First Offer 10 

1014 Told in New England, and Other Tales. 10 

1016 At the Seaside; or, A Sister’s Sacrifice. ................. 10 

1220 Dorothy’s Venture 20 

1221 Among the Ruins, and Other Stories 10 

1431 ‘ ‘ A Little Aversion ” 10 

1549 Bid Me Discourse 10 

CHARLES LEVER’S WORKS. 

98 Harry Lorrequer. . 20 

132 Jack Hinton, the Guardsman. ... 30 

137 A Rent in a Cloud 10 

146 Charles O’Malley, the Irish Dragoon (Triple Number) 30 

152 Arthur O’Leary 20 

168 Con Cregan 20 

169 St.* Patrick’s Eve 10 

174 Kate O’Donoghue 20 

257 That Boy of Norcott’s 10 

296 Tom Burke of Ours.” First half 20 

296 Tom Burke of “ Ours. ” Second half. 20 

319 Davenport Dunn. First half 20 

319 Davenport Dunn. Second half 20 

464 Gerald Fitzgerald 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBRARY.— Ordinary Edition. 


470 The Fortunes of Glencore 30 

539 Lord Kilgobbin 30 

546 Maurice Tiernay 30 

566 A Day’s Ride 30 

609 Barrington 30 

633 Sir Jasper Carew, Knight 30 

657 The Martins of Oro’ Martin. Part I 30 

657 The Martins of Cro’ Martin. Part II 30 

833 Tony Butler 30 

873 Luttrell of Arran. Part 1 30 

873 Luttrell of Arran. Part II 30 

951 Paul Gosslett’s Confessions 10 

965 One of Them. First half 30 

965 One of Them^ Second half 20 

989 Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Part 1 20 

989 Sir Brook Fossbrooke. Part II 20 

1335 The Bramleighs of Bishop’s Polly 20 

1309 The Dodd Family Abroad. First half 20 

1309 The Dodd Family Abroad. Second half 20 

1343 Horace Templeton 20 

1394 Roland Cashel. First half 20 

1394 Roland Cashel. Second half 20 

1496 The Daltons; or. Three Roads in Life. First half 20 

1496 The Daltons; or. Three Roads in Life. Second half 20 

GEORGE MACDONALD’S WORKS. 

455 Paul Faber, Surgeon 20 

491 Sir Gibbie 20 

595 The Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood 20 

606 The Seaboard Parish 20 

637 Thomas Wingfold, Curate 20 

643 The Vicar’s Daughter 20 

668 David Elginbrod 20 

677 St. George and St. Michael 20 

790 Alec Forbes of Howglen 20 

887 Malcolm 20 

933 Mary Marston 20 

938 Guild Court. A London Story 20 

948 The Marquis of Lossie 20 

963 Robert Falconer 20 

1375 Castle Warlock: A Homely Romance , 20 


THE SEASIDE LIBEABT.—Ordinary Edition. 


1439 Adela Cathcart 20 

1466 The Gifts of the Child Christ, and Other Tales 10 

1488 The Princess and Curdle. A Girl’s Story 10 

1498 Weighed and Wanting 20 

1884 Donal Grant 20 

1921 The Portent 10 

1922 Phantastes: A Faerie Romance for Men and Women 10 

MRS. OLIPHANT’S WORKS. 

136 Katie Stewart 10 

210 Young Musgrave 20 

391 The Primros6 Path 20 

452 An Odd Couple 10 

475 Heart and Cross 10 

488 A Beleaguered City 10 

497 For Love and Life 20 

511 Squire Arden 20 

542 The Story of Valentine and His Brother 20 

596 Caleb Field 10 

651 Madonna Mary :.. 20 

665 The Fugitives 10 

680 The Greatest Heiress in England. 20 

706 Earthbound 10 

775 The Queen (Illustrated) 10 

785 Orphans 10 

802 Phoebe, Junior. A Last Chronicle of Carlingford 20 

875 No. 3 Grove Road 10 

881 He That Will Not When He May 20 

919 May 20 

959 Miss Marjoribanks. Part 1 20 

959 Miss Marjoribanks. Part II 20 

1004 Harry Joscelyn 20 

1017 Carita 20 

1049 In Trust 20 

1215 Brownlows 20 

1319 Lady Jane 10 

1396 Whiteladies 20 

1407 A Rose in June 10 

1449 A Little Pilgrim 10 

1547 It Was a Lover and His Lass - % 20 

1647 The Ladies Lindores 20 


1% 


TEE SEASIDE LIBRARY. — Ordinary Edition. 


1662 Salem Chapel 20 

1669 The Minister’s Wife. First half 20 

1669 The Minister’s Wife. Second half 20 

1680 The Wizard’s Son 20 

1697 The Lady’s Walk 10 

1703 Sir Tom 20 

1794 A Son of the Soil 20 

1798 Hester: A Story of Contemporary Life 20 

1804 The Laird of Norlaw 7 20. 

1919 The Prodigals: And Their Inheritance 10 

1935 Memoirs and Resolutions of Adam Graeme of Mossgray, 

Including Some Chronicles of the Borough of Fendie. . . 20 

1937 Madam 10 

1945 The House on the Moor 20 

“OUIDA’S” WORKS. 

49 Granville de Vigne; or, Held in Bondage 20 

54 Under Two Flags 20 

55 In a Winter City 10 

56 Strathmore 20 

59 Chandos 20 

61 Bebee; or, Two Little. Wooden Shoes 10 

62 Folle-Farine 20 

71 Ariadne — The Story of a Dream 20 

181 Beatrice Boville 10 

211 Randolph Gordoji 10 

230 Little Grand and the Marchioness 10 

241 Tricotrin 20 

249 Cecil Castlemaine’s Gage 10 

279 A Leaf in the Storm, and Other Tales 10 

281 Lady Marabout’s Troubles 10 

334 Puck 20 

377 Friendship 20 

379 Pascarel 20 

386 Signa. 20 

389 Idalia..*. 20 

563 A Hero’s Reward 10 

676 Umilta 10 

699 Moths 20 

791 Pipistrel lo 10 

864 Findelkind. 10 




MUNRO’S PUBLICATIONS, 


’HE SEASIDE LIBMRY.-POOKET EDITION. 

[continued from fourth page.] 


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The Mystery. By Mrs. Henry Wood. 15 
Mr. Smith: A Part of His Life. By 

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Beyond Recall. By Adeline Sergeant 10 

Cousins. By L B. Walford 20 

The Bride of Monte-Cristo. A Sequel 
to “The Count of Moute-Cristo,” 

By Alexander Dumas 10 

Proper Pride. By B. M. Croker 10 

A Fair Maid. By F. W. Robinson 20 

The Count of Monte-Cristo., Parti. 

1 By Alexander Dumas 20 

I The Count of Monte-Cristo. Part II. 

I By Alexander Dumas 20 

I Anishmaelite. By MissM. E. Braddou 15 
Pi6donche, A French Detective. By 

Fortune Du Boisgobey 10 

'.Judith Shakespeare: Her Love Af- 
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William Black 15 

The Water-Babies. A Fairy Tale for 
a Land-Baby. By the Rev. Charles 

Kingsley 10 

Laurel Vane; or. The Girls’ Con- 
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Miller 20 

Lady Gay’s Pride; or, The Bliser’s 
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Miller 20 

Lancaster’s Choice. By Mrs, Alex, 

McVeigh Miller 20 

The Wandering Jew. Parti. By Eu- 
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The Mysteries of Paris. Part I. By 

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The Mysteries of Paris. Part II. By 
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Love and Mirage; or. The Waiting on 
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Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse, Prin- 
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Biographical Sketch and Letters. .. 10 
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Under the Lilies and Roses. By Flor- 
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Henry Wood. A Man of His Word, 


By W. E. Norris 10 

For Life and Love. By Alison 10 

Little Goldie. Mrs. Sumner Hayden 20 
Omnia Vanitas. A Tale of Society. 

By Mrs. Forrester 10 

The Squire’s Legacy. By Mary Cecil 

Hay 15 

Donal Grant, By George MacDonald 15 
The Sin of a Lifetime. By the author 

of “Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

Doris. By “ The Duchess 10 

The Gambler’s Wife 20 


[continued on last 


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286 Deldee ; or.The Iron Hand. F. Warden 20 

287 At AVar With Herself. By the author 

of “ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

288 From Gloom to Sunlight. By the au- 

thor of “ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

289 John Bull’s Neighbor in Her True 

Light. By a “ Brutal Saxon ’’ 10 

290 Nora’s Love Test. By Mary Cecil Hay 20 

291 Love’s Warfare. By the author of 

“ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

292 A Golden Heart. By the author of 

“ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

293 The Shadow of a Sin, By the author 

of “ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

294 Hilda. By the author of “ Dora 

Thorne’’ 10 

295 A Woman’s War. By the author of 

“ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

‘296 A Rose in Thorns. By the author 
of “ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

297 Hilary’s Folly. By the author of 

“ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

298 Mitchelhurst Place. By Margaret 

Veley 10 

299 The Fatal Lilies, and A Bride from 

the Sea, By the author of “Dora 
Thorne ’’ 10 

300 A Gilded Sin, and A Bridge of Love. 

By the author of “ Dora Thorne ’’. . . 10 

301 Dark Days. By Hugh Conwaj^ 10 

302 The Blatchford Bequest. By Hugh 

Conway 10 

303 Ingledew House, and More Bitter than 

Death. By the author of “Dora 
Thorne’’ 10 

304 In Cupid’s Net. By the author of 

“ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 

305 A Dead Heai't, and Ladj’^ Gwendo- 

line’s Dream. By the author of 
“ Dora Thorne ’’ 10 


306 A Golden Dawn, and Love for a Day. 


By the author of “ Dora Thorne , 10 

307 Two Kisses, and Like No Other Love, 

By the author of “ Dora Thorne . 10 

308 Beyond Pardon 20 

309 The Pathfinder. By J. Fenimore 

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310 The Prairie. By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

311 Two Years Before the Mast. By R. 

H. Dana, Jr. 20 

312 A Week in Killarney. By “The 

Duchess’’ 10 

313 The Lover’s Creed. By Mrs. Cashel 

Hoey 15 

314 Peril, By Jessie Fothergill 20 

315 The Mistletoe Bough. Edited by 

Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

316 Sworn to Silence; or, Aline Rodney’s 

Secret. By Mrs. Alex. McVeigh 
Miller 20 

317 By Mead and Stream. By Charles 

Gibbon 20 


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